£(  brar  jp  of t:he  £:heological  Seminar  jp 

PRINCETON  • NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Presbyterian  Church  in  the  U.3.A. 
DeDartraent  of  History 


Pr^-sh.  B d «f  Pub.  Coll. 


/ 3^  S/S' 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/outatseaorfromboOOemma 


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OUT  AT  SEA; 


FROM  BOSTON  TO  CEYLON. 


Bt  EMMA. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

PRESBYTERIAN  PUBLICATION  COMMITTEE, 
1334  CHESTNUT  STREET, 

A.  D.  r.  RANDOLPH,  770  BROADWAY,  H.  Y. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Cougress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 
WM.  L.  UILDEBURN,  Treasurer, 
fcrt  b'^jLSt  for  the 

PRESBYTERIAN  PUBLTCAITON  COMMITTEE, 
lu  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED  BY  WESTCOTT  k THOMSON. 


CONTENTS 


I. 

PAQS 

The  Glen 7 

II. 

Sea  Sights 22 

III. 

Rain,  Gales  and  Fogs 59 

IV. 

Stars  in  Sky  and  Sea 106 

V. 

Sabbath  at  Sea 132 

3 


4 


CONTENTS, 


VI. 

PAGS 

Ashore  Again 152 

VII. 

Madras  to  Ce;ytuii 178 


EDITOR’S  PREFACE. 


Ocean  Life,  with  its  sights  and  sounds,  its  lights 
and  shades,  its  wonders  and  its  teachings,  our  readers 
will  find  portrayed  in  “ Out  at  Sea”  by  a graceful  and 
truthful  pen.  The  long  voyage  from  America  to 
South  India  and  thence  to  the  Island  of  Ceylon, 
made,  not  in  imagination  hut  in  fact,  furnishes  full 
material  for  introducing  to  us  the  Ocean  in  all  of  its 
many  moods  of  storm  and  calm,  whilst  the  incidents 
of  the  voyage  supply  teachings  that  will  not  be  lost 
upon  the  thoughtful  voyager  upon  the  Sea  of  Life. 

J.  W.  P. 


1 * 


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Out  at  Sea. 


I. 

THE  GEEK. 

One  warm  afternoon  in  June,  Mrs. 
Kaymond  stood  at  the  front  door  of 
her  quiet  country  home,  looking  out 
upon  the  pleasant  scene.  The  heavy 
shower,  which  fell  two  days  before, 
aided  by  two  days  of  brilliant  sunshine 
that  followed,  had  made  every  green 
thing  lift  up  its  head  and  look  fresh 
and  vigorous,  and  had  also  brought 
out  a multitude  of  flowers. 

A group  of  merry  children  were 
jumping  about  under  the  cherry-tree, 
pleased  to  find  that  the  warm  sun  had 

7 


8 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


ripened  a few  cherries;  and  now  they 
came,  each  with  a handful,  to  ask  their 
mother  if  she  thought  them  fit  to  eat. 

“See,  mother,”  said  Emma,  a bright, 
intelligent  girl  of  fourteen  years,  “how 
well  the  garden  looks,  and  the  fields. 
Everything  is  growing  finely.  The 
king-lilies  in  the  center  of  that  oval  bed 
look  as  proud  as  queens,  and  the  white 
columbines,  and  gilly-flowers,  and  dear 
little  Scotch  roses  and  pansies  stand 
round  her  like  maids  of  honor,  gayly 
dressed,  but  lowly.” 

“And  look,  mother,”  said  Alice,  a 
child  of  twelve  years,  with  a less  at- 
tractive but  more  thoughtful  face,  “ at 
that  field  of  grass,  so  fresh  and  green, 
and  gay  with  buttercups  and  daisies. 
I think  God  has  made  things  very 
beautiful  for  us.” 

Clarence  and  Frank,  little  boys  of 


THE  GLEN. 


9 


eight  and  six,  had  been  quite  engrossed 
with  their  cherries;  but,  having  fin- 
ished them,  they  joined  their  mother 
and  sisters  on  the  piazza,  and  stretched 
their  little  necks  to  see  what  pleasant 
objects  they  might  descry  to  entitle 
their  voices  to  a hearing. 

“ Mother  dear,”  said  Clarence,  moved 
by  the  feeling  which  often  moves  older 
people  as  well  as  children,  that  some- 
thing a little  out  of  sight  or  out  of 
reach  must  be  much  finer  that  that 
which  is  at  hand,  “I  think  it  must  be 
j)leasant  down  at  the  further  side  of 
that  daisy  field.  I often  try  to  see 
down  to  the  bottom  of  it,  but  I can’t. 
I climbed  the  piazza-post  the  other 
day  after  the  shower,  and  tried  and 
tried  to  see  the  other  fence,  for  I 
kno-w  there  must  be  another  some- 
where.” 


10 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“How  do  you  know,  Clarence,”  said 
Frank,  who,  though  younger,  some- 
times thought  he  had  more  sagacity 
than  his  brother,  “how  do  you  know 
but  that  field  runs  ’way  on,  ever  so 
far,  and  then  goes  into  a wood?  Don’t 
you  see  the  tops  of  those  trees?  Then 
is  there  not  a wood  there?” 

Clarence  was  the  boy  to  go  and  look 
at  everything  he  wished  to  know,  and, 
if  it  was  a small  thing,  to  turn  it  over, 
feel  it,  measure  it,  and  make  himself 
sure  of  all  the  facts  in  the  case.  Frank 
made  a calculation  in  his  mind  of  what 
and  how  a thing  was  likely  to  be,  and 
sometimes  reached  a right  conclusion 
quicker  than  Clarence,  but  was  not  so 
certain  always  to  be  right. 

“Pooh!  Frank;  you  are  young  yet, 
my  boy.  Don’t  you  know  that  every- 
body fences  his  ground  all  around? 


THE  GLEN. 


11 


If  there’s  a wood  then  there  may  be  a 
fence  in  the  wood,  or  the  other  side 
of  the  wood,  or  somewhere.  There  is 
Uncle  Henry’s  lot.  I tried,  the  other 
day,  to  find  the  end  of  it,  and  I had 
to  go  over  the  brook  and  through  the 
apple-orchard,  and  then  I found  it. 
There  is  an  end  to  everything,  as  far 
as  I know,  isn’t  there,  mother?” 

“Everything  but  little  children’s 
chat,  I suppose,”  said  his  mamma, 
caressing  him. 

The  mother  waited  for  the  boys  to 
finish  their  talk  about  the  fence;  for, 
though  she  never  allowed  them  to 
make  a noise  about  nothing  and  inter- 
rupt older  people’s  conversation,  yet, 
when  only  herself  and  their  sisters 
were  present,  and  she  saw  that  they 
really  had  some  thoughts  which,  to 
their  young  minds,  seemed  of  conse- 


12 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


quence,  she  loved  to  hear  them  reason 
kindly  together  and  exercise  the  facul- 
ties God  had  given  them. 

“I  daresay  it  is  very  pleasant  out 
there,  Clarence,”  said  Mrs.  Raymond, 
when  they  paused,  “though  not  more 
so,  perhaps,  than  the  view  from  this 
spot.  Here  we  can  see  to  a great 
distance.  The  daisy-field  in  front  of 
us,  across  the  road,  descends  over  a 
steep  slope  into  the  ravine  where  the 
trees  grow,  whose  tops  you  can  just 
see  beyond  the  field.  Beyond  them 
you  see  another  long  line  of  hillside, 
with  fine  old  trees  along  its  summit; 
and  over  all  appear  the  far-otf  moun- 
tains, with  their  sides  covered  with 
woods,  fields  and  villages.  This  is  a 
fine  jrrospect.  At  the  further  end  of 
the  daisy-field  you  would  find  you 
could  see  but  a little  way.  Still  I pre- 


THE  GLEH. 


13 


sume  there  are  many  pleasant  nooks 
and  shady  walks  in  that  ravine,  and  I 
hope  we  may  sometime  go  and  explore 
it  witli  you.  But,  Clarence  dear,  let 
us  make  the  most  of  what  is  within 
our  reach,  enjoy  that,  and  not  think 
that  sometliing-  else  would  be  better.” 

“Don’t  you  think  it  would  be  a fine 
afternoon  for  a walk,  mamma?”  said 
Emma. 

“And  to  take  our  sewing  and  sit  in 
the  glen?”  added  Alice,  inquiringly. 

“I  think  we  may  not  have  a better 
chance,”  replied  her  mother.  “It  is 
really  a lovely  day,  and  the  ground 
must  be  quite  dry  by  this  time.” 

“Mother,  you  have  often  promised 
to  tell  us  about  your  voyage  to  India. 
Will  you  not  do  so  this  afternoon?” 
asked  Emma. 

“I  should  like  nothing  better.  Get 
2 


14 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


your  bonnets  and  shawls  and  your 
sewing.” 

“Thank  you,  dear  mother,”  said 
Alice. 

“May  we  go  too,  mother?”  asked 
Clarence.  “I  should  like  to  hear.” 

“And  1 too,”  added  Frank.  “We 
will  be  still  as  mice.” 

“Still  as  squirrels, — that  will  do. 
Frisk  about  if  }'ou  will,  but  don’t  make 
a noise.” 

In  a few  minutes  all  Avere  prepared 
to  set  otf.  Clarence  noticed  that  Frank 
had  thought  of  something  with  Avhich 
to  amuse  himself.  In  his  hand  was  a 
paper  windmill,  whose  movements  he 
Avas  never  Aveary  of  Avatching. 

“Clarence  dear,  Avhy  don’t  you  take 
your  thread  and  pins.  Avith  AA'hich  I 
taught  you  to  weave  tattin?”  asked 
Alice. 


THE  GLEN. 


15 


“Oh,  I will!  I will!  I can  listen  a 
great  deal  better  when  I’ve  something 
in  my  hands  to  do.  And  I need  not 
work  if  I’ve  not  a mind  to,  so  it’s  only 
f)lay,  then.” 

He  ran  and  quickly  brought  his 
simple  tools. 

They  took  the  highway  for  a fourth 
of  a mile,  and  then  turned  into  a cross- 
road, which  led  among  the  hills  and 
woods.  Clarence' sometimes  took  his 
mother’s  hand,  and  sometimes  ran  and 
walked  beside  his  sisters,  and  some- 
times borrowed  the  windmill  from 
Frank,  who  would  then  take  his  turn 
at  his  mother’s  or  sister’s  side. 

“Mother,”  said  Alice,  “you  have 
told  us  a little  about  India;  but  what 
I have  heard  only  makes  me  wish  to 
hear  more,  and  you  always  say  that 


16 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


sometime  we  shall  have  a long  talk 
about  it.” 

“1  hope,  my  clear,  that  this  summer 
we  shall  have  many  opportunities  to 
sit  and  sew  and  talk  together.  I have 
long  wished  to  tell  you  many  things, 
and  used,  when  you  were  quite  small, 
to  look  forward  to  the  time  when  you 
Avould  both  be  old  enough  to  listen 
with  interest.  But  since  then  I have 
been  so  much  occupied  that  I began 
to  think  that  scenes  and  eAmnts,  which 
passed  so  long  ago,  would  slip  from 
my  memory  before  I could  reimpress 
them  by  reviewing  them.  I feel  that 
it  ought  not  to  be  quite  lost  to  my 
children  that  I once  crossed  the  mighty 
ocean  to  almost  the  remotest  parts  of 
the  globe,  and  spent  ten  years  of  my 
life  among  a people  of  a strange  relig- 


4 


THE  GLEN.  17 

ion,  and  of  practices  and  a character 
widely  different  from  our  own. 

“I  am  sure,”  said  Alice,  “we  are 
alwa}^s  delighted  to  hear  you,  dear 
mother.” 

“I  don’t  know  anything  more  pleas- 
ant, mother,”  added  Emma,  “than  to 
sit  by  you  with  our  sewing,  and  listen 
to  you,” 

“We  Avill  try,  my  children,  to  come 
out  at  least  once  a week  to  this  little 
valley,  or  to  some  other  out-door  re- 
treat; and  there  will,  I think,  be  two 
or  three  other  days  in  the  Aveek  Avhen 
Ave  can  sit  in  the  arbor  or  on  the 
piazza,  or,  if  the  Aveather  forbids  this, 
Avithin  doors,  and  spend  some  time  in 
that  way.” 

“I  hope  Ave  may,”  said  Alice. 

“That  will  be  a ery  pleasant,”  added 
Emma. 


2 * 


18 


OUT  AT  SEA 


They  were  walking  down  hill  as 
they  talked,  and  had  now  reached  a 
place  where  a hill,  which  hounded  the 
meadow  on  their  left,  drew  near  to 
the  road.  From  that  point  the  hill 
swept  round  in  a semicircle,  the  road 
running  round  at  its  base.  The  top 
of  the  hill  was  smooth  and  round,  and 
its  steep  sides  were  covered  thinly 
with  trees  and  thrifty  brushwood,  in 
their  young  summer  foliage.  The  brook, 
Avhich  for  some  distance  threaded  its 
way  between  the  road  and  the  hillside, 
playing  with  the  pebbles  that  tumbled 
from  either,  at  length  suddenly  darted 
under  a small  bridge  to  the  other  side 
of  the  road,  and,  leaping  down  the 
bank,  began  to  gambol  through  the 
pretty  valley  on,  their  right.  This 
spot  looked  as  though  it  were  made 


THE  GLEN. 


19 


on  purpose  for  a play-ground  for  chil- 
dren. Another  hill  enclosed  the  fur- 
ther side  of  it  and  met  the  circular  one. 

The  ground  was  nearly  level  at  the 
bottom  of  the  little  semicircular  val- 
ley, yet  descending  slightly  toward 
where  the  road  disappeared,  and  was 
varied  by  many  slight  elevations  and 
depressions,  some  rough  and  rocky, 
others  smooth  and  grassy.  The 
straight  hill  was  covered  from  top  to 
bottom  with  a rich  forest,  in  which  old 
red,  black  and  white  oak,  hickory  and 
black  walnut,  maple  and  chestnut- 
trees,  vied  with  each  other  in  urging 
their  way  skyward,  and  birch  and  dog- 
wood contented  themselves  with  look- 
ing up  toward  the  heads  of  their  migh- 
tier associates.  Enough  large  trees 
were  scattered  over  the  ground  below 
to  furnish  shady  retreats,  still  leaving 


20 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


sufficient  access  for  the  sun  to  keep 
the  earth  dry  and  make  the  scene 
cheerful  in  sunny  weather. 

When  they  reached  this  spot  our 
little  party  stopped  awhile  to  watch 
the  movements  of  the  brook.  Look- 
ing from  the  road  over  a bank  of  a 
few  feet  that  enclosed  the  curved  side 
of  the  glen,  they  saw  it  run  along  for 
awhile  at  the  foot  of  tlie  bank,  as 
though  it  thought  it  might  escape  in 
the  same  direction  in  which  it  entered. 
►Soon,  foiled  in  this,  it  made  a bold  rush 
across  quite  to  the  foot  of  the  opposite 
hill.  Here,  iinding  itself  effectually 
hemmed  in,  it  turned  and  wandered 
leisurely  here  and  there,  as  if  in  love 
Avith  the  place,  and  half  determined 
never  to  run  out  of  it,  yet  ever  tend- 
ing by  many  a circuit,  many  a grace- 
ful bend,  toward  the  lowest  part  of  the 


THE  GLEN. 


21 


glen,  where  the  old  straight  hill  held 
hack  to  give  it  passage. 

After  amusing  themselves  awhile 
with  the  Avhimsical  flow  of  the  stream, 
Mrs.  Raymond  and  the  children  hasted 
down  where  the  bank  sloped  gently, 
and  took  their  seat  on  an  elevation 
which  was  shaded  by  three  large 
maple-trees,  that  shot  up  their  long 
trunks  from  one  root,  and  where  a few 
saplings  screened  them  from  the  view 
of  any  one  who  might  be  passing  on 
the  road.  The  brook  was  not  very 
near  them,  but  they  saw  one  of  its 
pretty  bends  some  distance  on,  and 
heard  the  plash  of  a little  cascade  over 
which  it  tumbled. 


II. 


Mes.  Raymond,  Emma  and  Alice 
took  out  tkeir  work,  and  giving  Clar- 
ence and  Frank  leave  to  run  about  or 
sit  down  near  them,  where  and  as  they 
pleased,  only  not  to  leave  the  glen, 
Mrs.  Raymond  said,  “I  am  at  a loss, 
my  daughters,  where  to  begin  my 
story.” 

“I  want  first  to  know,  mother,”  said 
Emma,  “what  could  ever  put  it  into 
your  head  to  leave  this  beautiful  coun- 
try and  go  so  far  away.” 

“My  child,  that  question  carries  me 
far  back,  but  I think  I can  answer 

you  in  a few  words.  When  I was 
22 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


23 


quite  a child,  only  fourteen  years  of 
age,  I had  been  for  some  time  afraid 
lest  I should  die  before  securing  an 
interest  in  the  Saviour  of  sinners. 
This  fear  made  everything  in  the 
world  lose  its  value,  and  made  me  feel 
that  nothing  was  of  any  account  but 
the  salvation  of  the  soul. 

“While  in  this  state  of  mind  I heard 
a sermon  from  the  Rev.  George  Whit- 
ing on  the  subject  of  missions.  He 
showed  the  wretched  condition  of  the 
heathen  without  a knowledge  of  Jesus, 
and  the  privilege  and  duty  of  carrying 
to  them  the  ‘glad  tidings.’  I forgot 
myself  for  the  time,  and  thought  that 
to  communicate  the  news  of  a Saviour 
to  the  heathen  was  better  worth  living 
for  than  anything  else. 

“After  the  service  Mr.  Whiting 
spoke  with  me  about  my  own  state, 


24 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


and  told  me  that  Christ  was  willino: 
at  that  moment  to  receive  me  and 
become  my  Saviour.  Doubtless  I had 
heard  this  before,  but  now  it  seemed 
to  me  true,  and  I Avas  happy.  The 
fear  that  for  Aveeks  had  harassed  me 
Avas  gone.  God’s  earth  appeared  to 
me  delightful.  Everything  seemed  to 
tell  of  his  love  for  us.  From  that 
time,  Avhenever  the  subject  of  the 
heathen  Avas  brought  to  my  mind,  I 
felt  the  impression  made  by  that  ser- 
mon reneAved,  and  thought  the  pleas- 
antest thing  in  the  Avorld  would  be  to 
assist  in  making  knoAvn  Christ  and 
sahmtion  to  the  heathen.” 

“But,  mother,”  said  Emma,  “there 
are  plenty  of  people  in  this  country 
Avho  do  not  seem  to  think  at  all  about 
the  Saviour,  if  they  have  heard  of  him, 
and  many  too,  I have  heard  it  said, 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


25 


who  never  have  heard  of  tne  way  to 
heaven.  I should  think  you  could 
have  done  just  as  much  good  by  tell- 
ing them.” 

“ There  are  in  this  country,  my  dear, 
comparatively  few  butknow  something 
about  the  way  of  salvation,  and  might 
know  more  if  they  would.  The  case 
of  the  heathen,  who  cannot  possibly 
know  of  what  Christ  has  done  for  us 
unless  Christians  go  to  tell  them,  ap- 
peals more  strongly  to  our  hearts. 
Besides,  the  command,  ‘Go  ye  into 
all  the  world,’  seems  to  require  of  some 
Christians  that  they  should  leave  their 
homes  and  go  to  remote  regions;  and 
those  who  can  and  have  an  opportunity 
should  be  willing  to  go.” 

“But,  mother,”  asked  Alice,  “don’t 
you  think  that  any  one  who  really 
care  to  have  people  go  to  heaven  will 

3 


26 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


try  to  do  all  tJie  good  they  can  to 
everybody  they  meet?” 

“Those  who  have  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
my  daughter,  will  try  to  do  all  in  their 
power  for  the  good  of  others,  but,  most 
of  all,  will  they  try  to  help  others  to 
heaven.” 

“ Mother,  how  long  does  it  take  to  go 
to  India?”  asked  Frank,  who  had  kept 
his  seat  very  quietly,  Avhile  Clarence 
, sometimes  remained  Avithin  hearing, 
and  sometimes  drove  Frank’s  wind- 
mill as  he  ran  along  the  bank  of  the 
stream. 

“ The  vo}mgeis  about  fifteen  thousand 
miles,  and  is  made  by  a sailing  ship  in 
four  months.  INIadras,  Avhich  w is  our 
first  landing-plfice,  is  in  southevn  In- 
dia. It  is  the  capital  of  the  jNladras 
Presidency,  which  includes  the  south- 
ern portion  of  Hindoostan,  having  the 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


2T 


bay  of  Bengal  on  the  east  and  the 
Arabian  sea  on  the  west.” 

“How  could  you  stay  so  long  on 
the  water?”  asked  Emma.  “I  should 
think  you  would  have  been  tired  out.” 
“I  will  tell  you,  my  dear.  In  the 
first  place  I felt  that  I was  in  the 
way  of  my  duty,  that  I was  where  my 
Saviour  would  have  me.  That  gave 
me  a feeling  of  satisfaction. 

“Next  I considered  that  the  voyage 
was  probably  the  only  opportunity  I 
should  ever  have  for  learning  a variety 
of  important  lessons.  I might  learn 
how  to  make  mj'self  as  comfortable 
as  possible  when  confined  in  narrow 
limits,  how  to  annoy  others  as  little 
as  possible  when  shut  up  in  close 
contact  with  them,  how  to  accomp- 
lish as  much  as  possible  in  unfavor- 
able circumstances  on  ship-board,  to 


28 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


meet  a storm  Avitli  trust  in  God,  to 
bear  a calm  with  patience.  There  was 
an  opportunity  to  observe  the  structure 
of  a ship  and  its  parts,  to  watch  the 
processes  of  conducting  it  in  fair  svind, 
head  wind,  squall,  gale  and  calm,  to 
watch  the  motions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies.  In  tliese  and  other  ways  I 
proposed  to  myself  to  endeavor  to  turn 
the  voyage  to  account. 

“I  supposed  we  should  be  four  or 
five  months  in  reaching  India,  and 
that  to  go  through  one  hundred  and 
twenty  days,  each  day  Avishing  that 
this  were  the  hundred  and  twentieth, 
or  acting  as  though  we  could  hasten 
the  ship  by  the  chafing  of  our  OAvn 
mind,  Avouhl  be  senseless.  I knew  Ave 
must  have  some  storms,  some  calms, 
some  fair  Avinds,  some  head  Avinds, 
some  heat,  some  cold,  and  that  if,  Avhen 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


29 


the  wind  was  ahead,  I AN  ished  it  were 
fair,  and  when  it  was  fair  I said,  ‘What 
a pity  we  cannot  go  faster,’  and,  when 
it  rose  to  a gale,  said,  ‘This  is  terrific, 
I wish  it  were  over,’  and  Avhen  it  grew 
calm,  ‘Ah,  me!  we  don’t  make  any 
progress,’  and  Avhen  it  was  cold,  ‘Oh, 
for  warmer  weather!’  and  when  it  was 
Avarm,  ‘Oh,  for  a breath  of  cool  air!’  I 
should  only  make  myself  and  others 
miserable.  ‘I  Avill  try,’  thought  I,  ‘to 
meet  all  the  incidents  of  the  Amyage  in 
such  a temper  that  I shall  be  better 
prepared  for  the  duties  Avhich  Avill 
devolve  on  me,  and  the  ills  Avhich  may 
befall  me,  Avhen  it  is  passed.” 

“Yet  so  long  a voyage  must  have 
been  very  tedious.  Could  you  see 
nothing  but  sky  and  Avater?”  asked 
Emma. 

“Though  Ave  could  see,  much  of  the 

3 » 


30 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


time,  nothing  but  S(.*a  and  sky,  yet  the 
longer  our  attention  was  confined  to 
those  objects,  the  more  capable  they 
seemed  of  giving  us  pleasure.  We 
found  continually  some  charm  with 
which  we  had  not  before  been  i m pressed , 
some  feature  of  beauty  we  had  never 
before  noticed.  All  the  changing  hues 
of  the  sky,  all  the  diversified  forms  and 
combinations  of  cloud,  all  the  shifting 
attitudes  and  varying  colors  of  ocean 
awakened  untiring  interest.” 

“That  would  do  very  well  for  a few 
days  or  weeks,”  said  Emma,  “but 
when  it  came  to  months!” 

“The  same  dearth  of  objects,  which 
gave  new  interest  to  the  few  that  re- 
mained to  us,  made  us  all  give  more 
attention  to  and  derive  more  pleasure 
from  such  other  objects  and  incidents 
as  were  occasionally  brought  to  our 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


31 


notice.  A rare  bird  flying  about  the 
ship  was  sufficient  to  attract  all  the 
sage  men  and  women  of  our  company 
from  whatever  business  engaged  them 
at  the  time,  to  watch  its  movements 
and  habits. 

“A  fish  in  our  wake  would  keep  us 
for  hours,  perhaps,  absorbed,  first  with 
its  form,  color  and  motions,  then  its 
mode  of  seizing  and  eating  what  was 
thrown  from  the  ship  to  feed  it,  then 
the  arrangements  for  its  capture,  then 
the  hoisting  of  it  on  deck,  then  its 
structure  and  adaptations.  The  report 
of  a ship  in  sight  would  draw  us  all, 
in  a moment,  to  the  deck,  and  enter- 
tain us  with  watching  its  approach,  its 
condition,  ascertaining  its  kind,  its 
course,  calculating  the  probabilities  of 
speaking  it,  etc.” 

“What  can  that  mean,  mother — 


32 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


‘speaking  a ship?’  Can  a ship  hear?” 
asked  Frank. 

“No,  dear;  but  the  men  on  board 
of  it  can;  and  ‘to  speak  a ship’  is  only 
a sailor’s  way  of  saying  that  the  officers 
of  one  ship  speak  to  the  officers  of 
another  ship.  This  is  a great  event 
at  sea.  Though  in  New  York  harbor, 
or  anywhere  else  near  the  land,  little 
would  be  thought  of  a man  on  one 
vessel  hallooing  to  a man  on  another, 
yet,  in  mid-ocean,  where  the  seamen 
and  passengers  have  been  for  weeks 
or  months  without  conimunicatine: 
with  friends  or  hearing  a word  from 
any  part  of  the  world  outside  the 
2)lanks  that  enclose  them,  it  is  an  oc- 
currence that  does  not  fail  to  interest 
every  one  on  board,  from  the  com- 
mander to  the  humblest  sailor-boy. 

“The  first  thought  is,  ‘may-be  we 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


33 


shall  hear  from  home,’  and  from  the 
time  she  first  shoAvs  a speck  on  the  far- 
off  horizon,  till  she  comes  within  hail- 
ing distance,  her  progress  is  watched, 
sometimes  for  days  together,  with  great 
interest.  Of  the  ships  that  come  in 
sight,  many  sail  awhile  just  on  the 
horizon,  and  after  a few  hours  disap- 
pear. Many  traverse  the  field  of  vis- 
ion for  hours,  perhaps  days,  without 
ever  coming  near  enough  for  you  to 
know  what  flag  they  carry.” 

Clarence,  Avho  was  near  enough  to 
hear  the  word  flag,  here  broke  in  with 
his  first  inquiry, — “What  do  they 
carry  a flag  for,  mother?” 

“To  show  what  country  they  came 
from,  my  darling.” 

“I  thought,”  said  Clarence,  “nobody 
could  see  them,  when  they  were  out  at 
sea,  only  the  fishes  and  the  stars.” 


34 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“You  forget  the  birds,  Clarence,” 
said  Alice.  “There  are  a good  many 
birds  out  at  sea.” 

“Much  of  the  time  no  one  can  see 
them  but  God.  But  sometimes  as 
many  as  a dozen  shijos,  or  even  more, 
are  in  sight  at  once.  Whenever  one 
comes  so  near  that  there  is  a prospect 
of  speaking,  it  makes  a great  bustle 
on  board.  Perhaps  the  captain  will 
say,  ‘That  is  an  American  vessel, 
homeward  bound.’  He  can  tell  so 
much  by  her  flag  and  her  build,  and 
the  course  she  takes.  Then  all  on 
board  Avho  have  letters  partly  written 
go  to  their  portfolios  and  scribble  a 
few  closing  lines,  send  loving  mes- 
sages, seal  their  letters,  and  hasten  on 
deck  to  see  them  despatched  in  case 
of  an  opportunity. 

“The  ship,  which  at  first  appeared 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


85 


a little  speck  against  the  distant  sky, 
gradually  comes  nearer,  and  looks 
larger  and  larger,  till  it  is  almost  side 
by  side  with  your  own,  and  looks  as 
though  one  dash  of  a wave  might 
knock  the  top  of  its  towering  mast 
against  the  top  of  yours,  and  shiver 
both  to  pieces.  But  the  mighty  things 
are  held  by  the  skill  of  their  com- 
manders, applying  the  forces  which 
God  has  put  at  their  control,  as  two 
powerful  horses  are  reined  in  and  held 
quiet  while  the  horsemen  converse  with 
each  other.  IS^ow  every  one  on  board 
almost  holds  his  breath.  Silence 
reigns,  till  the  captain,  putting  his 
speaking-trumpet  to  his  mouth,  ex- 
changes with  the  captain  of  the  other 
ship  a few  words  of  salutation,  inquiry 
and  reply.  If  the  ship  is  going  toward 
our  home  and  the  sea  quiet  enough  to 


36 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


allow  it,  we  despatch  a small  boat  with 
letters,  and  give  them  into  the  care  of 
some  person  on  the  other  ship,  and  we 
all  resume  our  occupations,  feeling  as 
though  we  had  been  talking  with  our 
friends.” 

“Mother,”  said  Alice,  “you  speak 
of  ‘occupations.’  I thought  people  at 
sea  did  nothing  but  lounge  about  and 
try  to  make  themselves  comfortable.” 

“ In  short  voyages  we  cannot  usually 
do  much  more  than  that,  as,  for  the 
first  few  days  at  sea,  one  is  commonly 
sea-sick,  and,  for  a longer  time,  the 
motion  of  the  ship  necessarily  takes 
the  attention.  But,  after  that,  most 
persons  are  able  to  read  and  write, 
some,  to  execute  sewing  and  other  me- 
chanical tasks. 

“ Devoting  regular  hours  each  day 
to  such  pursuits  gives  a home-like 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


37 


feeling,  and  lessens  the  tedium  of  sea- 
life.” 

Clarence  hnd  been  down  to  the  cas- 
cade to  try  what  effect  the  current  of 
air  produced  by  the  rush  of  water 
would  have  ou  the  windmill,  but,  just 
now  bethinking  himself  of  what  Alice 
had  said  about  birds,  he  ran  up  to  the 
group  and  said,  “Mother,  are  there 
birds  out  at  sea?  Alice  says  there 
are.  Did  you  see  any''?” 

“Yes,  my  son,  I saw  several  kinds 
of  birds  at  sea.  I will  tell  you  of  one 
kind  of  bird,  which  we  saw  repeatedly, 
the  albatross.  It  is  an  immense  bird, 
measuring  about  eleven  feet  from  tip 
to  tip  of  the  outstretched  wings.  We 
saw  many  of  these.  Sometimes  one 
would  appear  in  the  morning  and  give 
us  a good  opportunity  to  watch  it. 
Though  so  large,  it  would  sometimes^ 

4 


38 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


fly  high  enough  to  be  hid  by  the 
clouds.  It  would  keep  along  with  the 
ship  for  hours,  and  not  merely  keep 
up  with  it,  but  sweep  great  circles 
round  and  round  overhead,  perhaps 
of  miles  in  circumference,  when  the 
ship  was  sailing  at  the  rate  of  ten 
miles  an  hour,  and  all  with  such  an 
air  of  quietude  that  you  wonder  how 
the  force  is  exerted  that  propels  him. 

“ I can  think  of  nothing  in  movement 
more  admirable  than  the  powerful,  yet 
graceful  flight  of  this  bird.  You  would 
think  it  prided  itself  in  showing  us 
this  quality.  It  would  fly  swiftly  far 
ahead  of  us,  till  we  began  to  think  we 
should  lose  sight  of  it  entirely  in  the 
distance,  when  it  would  return  and 
retrace  its  course,  gliding  gently  far 
away  in  our  I’ear.  Soon  again  it  would 
turn,  and,  urging  its  strong  wings, 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


39 


sweep  round  to  leeward  of  us,  and, 
again  crossing  our  path  and  cleaving 
the  blast,  bear  away  to  windward.  I 
see  it  noAv — though  twenty  years  have 
passed — that  rapid,  quiet  flight,  those 
great  smooth  curves  traced  on  the  dark 
blue  sky.  One  day  the  mate  threw  out 
a hook  baited  Avith  pork  and  caught  one 
of  these  noble  creatures  and  brought  it 
on  board.  It  steod  about  as  high  as 
you  do,  Clarence,  or  perhaps  its  beak 
would  reach  just  high  enough  to  kiss 
you.  It  was  mostly  white,  with  dark 
lead-colored  feathers  at  the  end  of  the 
wings  and  across  the  back.  The  head, 
however,  was  brown.” 

“What  was  done  with  it,  mother?” 
asked  Frank.  “They  would  not  kill 
it,  would  they?” 

“It  was  left  to  the  ladles  on  board 
to  decide  what  should  be  done  with 


40 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


tlie  bird.  Difbn-ent  plans  were'  sug- 
gested and  discussed,  and  it  was  at 
length  decided  to  carve  the  name  of 
the  ship  and  the  date  of  the  capture 
upon  the  beak  of  the  bird  and  let  it 
dy  away,  which  was  done.  If  ever 
it  was  caught  again  somebody  would 
know  who  it  was  that  caught  it  tirst. 
If  not,  tliere  was  no  harm  done  to  the 
splendid  bird.” 

“Mother,”  said  Clarence,  looking 
full  of  some  idea,  “do  you  know  what 
I think  would  be  delightful?” 

“Well,  Clarence,”  said  his  mother. 

“If  I could  just  be  tied  on  to  ’the 
back  of  one  of  those  albatrosses  and 
take  a ride.  Why,  mother,  it  would 
be  just  as  safe  as  possible,  if  I only 
were  tied  on.  You  know  they  are 
very  strong  and  perfectly  at  home  up 
in  the  air,  and  there  is  no  danger  of 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


il 


their  tumbling,  and  there  is  nothing 
up  there  for  them  to  hit  against.  It 
would  be  as  much  safer  than  horse- 
back as  can  be.  Wouldn’t  I course  it 
up  there?” 

And  he  looked  into  the  sky,  and 
swung  his  head  around  as  though  he 
were  describing  with  it  the  circle  in 
Avhich  he  fancied  the  albatross  and  he 
were  careering. 

Emma  was  shiuldering,  Alice  was 
laughing,  and  Frank  was  trying  to> 
put  in  a word,  but  Clarence  talked  so 
earnestly  he  could  get  no  chance  to 
speak,  until  Clarence’s  head  began  to 
swim  with  the  whirl  it  was  taking. 

“How  would  you  get  back?”  said 
Frank  at  last,  looking  arch. 

“Why,  I thought,”  said  Clarence; 
“I  was  thinking — I did  not  think  but 
that  the  albatross  stayed  with  the  ship 


42 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


all  the  time.  Didn’t  you  say  so, 
mother?” 

“No,  my  squirrel,”  said  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond. “You  listen  sharply  when  you 
are  listening,  but  you  are  either  mus- 
ing or  running  most  of  the  time.” 

“I  will  sit  down  and  listen  now, 
mother.  I’ll  give  up  my  albatross 
race  till  I learn  how  far  its  home  is 
from  mine.  I like  this  talk  about 
birds.  Please  tell  us  something  more.” 

“I  will  tell  you  why  I felt  a special 
wish  to  see  an  albatross  before  we 
met  with  one.  Fourteen  years  before, 
Avhen  I was  a little  girl,  younger  than 
Frank  is  now,  I received  a present  of 
a fan  made  of  albatross’  feathers.  It 
Avas  made  for  me  on  board  ship  by  a 
very  dear  sister,  a missionary  to  Cey- 
lon, whom  I never  expected  to  see 
again,  and  sent  to  me  from  the  other 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


43 


side  of  the  globe,  and  of  ccurse  it  was 
very  precious.” 

“I  wish  I could  see  it,  mother,” 
said  Alice. 

“It  h as  long  ago  disappeared.  It 
is  about  forty  years  since  that  little 
fan  was  made,  and  it  was  frail.  I 
cannot  tell  where  it  is  now.  For  years 
it  kept  its  place  on  our  parlor  table 
with  two  other  small  fans  made  by  the 
same  loved  hand,  one  of  which,  a very 
little  one,  black  and  white,  was  made, 
I think,  from  the  wing  of  a cape  pigeon. 
I never  parted  with  mine  till  I was 
preparing  for  m^^own  voyage  to  India. 

“A  cajie  pigeon ! a cape  pigeon ! 
that’s  a kind  I never  heard  of,”  said 
Clarence.  “I  must  tell  Uncle  James 
of  that.  He  gets  every  kind  of  pigeon 
he  ever  hears  of  anywhere.  Where 


44 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“From  the  cape,  I guess,”  said 
Alice. 

“That’s  too  far  olf,”  cried  Clarence. 

“The  cape  is  not  a great  Avay  off. 
Aunt  INIaria  went  there  last  summer 
to  bathe,”  replied  Frank. 

“That  isn’t  the  cape — that’s  Cape 
]\Iay.  The  cape!  the  cape!  why,  it’s 
what  sailors  go  round  when  they  go 
round  the  world,”  said  Clarence. 

To  this  Frank  replied:  “It  does  not 
make  much  difference  where  it  is.  If 
Uncle  James  hears  of  a new  kind  of 
pigeon,  if  it’s  ever  so  far  off,  he’s  bound 
to  have  it.” 

“The  term  ‘the  cape,’”  said  Mrs. 
Raymond,  “has  been  used  to  designate 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  though  it  can 
be  used  of  any  cape,  in  whose  neigh- 
borhood the  speaker  happens  to  be. 
The  name.  Cape  Pigeon,  was  given  in 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


45 


those  old  times  when  it  was  a rare 
thing  to  sail  beyond  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  not  because  the  bird  was  found 
only  in  that  vicinity,  but  because  the 
notable  mariner  who  accomplished  that 
voyage  always  met  Avitli  them  as  he 
traversed  the  ocean,  when  south  of 
that  Cape.  They  are  a species  of 
petrel.” 

“And  what  are  they  called  petrels 
for,  mother?”  asked  Alice. 

“They  are  called  petrels  after  the 
apostle  Peter.” 

“Why,  mother,”  said  Emma,  “you 
surprise  me.” 

“I  think  that’s  rather  funny,”  added 
Clarence. 

“The  petrel  has  a singular  way  of 
walking  on  the  water,  which  very  nat- 
urally brings  to  mind  the  thought  of 
Peter  walkino-  on  the  water,  and.  see- 


46 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


ing  this,  some  one  gave  it  the  name 
peterel,  which  is  now  written  petrel.” 

“1  suppose,”  said  Frank,  “it  flaps 
its  wings,  as  the  ostrich  does,  when  it 
runs,  to  make  it  lighter  and  help  it 
along.  Did  you  see  any  of  them, 
mother?” 

“I  do  not  know  whether  I saw  the 
cape  pigeon  or  not,  but  I saw  many 
of  another  kind  of  Petrel,  called  the 
storm-petrel.  These  are,  by  sailors, 
more  often  called  Mother  Carey’s 
chickens.” 

“Did  Mother  Carey’s  chickens  walk 
on  the  water,  too?”  asked  Frank. 

“Yes,  I suppose  all  the  petrels  walk 
on  the  water,  judging  by  the  name, 
and  there  are  a great  many  varieties 
of  them,  and  multitudes  of  them.” 

“But,”  said  Clarence,  “did  you  see 
them  walk  on  the  water,  mother?  I 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


47 


should  want  to  see  a bird  walking  on 
the  water  myself,  or  have  my  mother 
see  it,  or  somebody,  before  I should 
feel  sure  about  it.” 

“ Oh,  yes,  my  dear,  I saAv  them  often. 
That  is,  I saw  them  skim  along,  their 
feet  just  touching  the  surface  of  the 
water  and  having  the  appearance  of 
walking.  I cannot  say  that  they  really 
trod  the  waves,  though  it  looked  so. 
Their  feet  threw  up  the  spray  as  they 
flitted  over  the  blue  water,  as  our  feet 
throw  up  the  dust  when  we  walk 
swiftly  through  an  unpaved  road.” 

“I  think  it  was  "flying,  only  it  flew 
so  low  as  to  touch  the  water.  Don’t 
you  think  so,  mother?”  asked  Clarence. 

“Suppose,  now,  they  did  fly  just  so 
low  as  to  touch  the  water  with  their 
feet;  would  not  that  look  like  walk- 
ing?” said  Alice. 


48 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“Did  they  flap  their  Avings?”  asked 
Frank. 

“I  did  not  see  them  flap  their  Avings 
AA'hen  they  moAmd  OAmr  the  surface  of 
the  AAoder.  Sometimes  their  Avings 
AA'ere  extended  and  sometimes  they 
AA’ere  closed.” 

“Closed?  Were  they?  Then  they 
must  haAm  AAxalked,”  said  Frank. 

“iVot  so  certain,  Frank,”  remarked 
Emma.  “They  may  haAm  got  an  im- 
pulse first,  as  you  do  by  running  on 
the  ice  before  you  begin  to  slide,  and 
then  haAm  closed  their wino’s  and  moA^ed 
on” 

“They  are  called  petrels  because 
they  haA^e  the  appearance  of  AA^alking 
on  the  Avater.  My  impression  is  that 
they  do  AA^alk,  or,  rather,  run  on  the 
Avater,  but  I cannot  say  certainly  that 
I eA'er  saAv  them  do  so.” 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


49 


“Well,”  said  Clarence,  “if  they  walk 
on  the  water,  it  is  somehow  with  the 
help  of  their  Avings,  I do  not  doubt, 
eAmn  if  they  do  fold  them  doAAm  after 
they  get  started.” 

“Please,  mother,”  said  Alice,  “tell 
us  Avhy  they  are  called  Mother  Carey’s 
chickens.  It  seems  to  me  there’s  a 
great  deal  to  be  learned  from  names, 
sometimes,  if  we  can  only  get  at  the 
meaning  of  them.” 

“That  is  true,  my  daughter;  but  in 
this  case  I fear  Ave  cannot  get  at  the 
meaning..  It  is  the  sailor’s  name  for 
them,  and  those  on  our  ship,  of  Avhom 
I inquired,  could  not  give  me  the  rea- 
son for  it.  I presume  there  is  an  old 
legend,  someAAdiere,  Avhich  explains  it, 
but  I have  not  met  AAuth  it  yet.” 
“Mother,”  said  Prank,  “you  use, 
once  in  aAvhile,  a Avord  that  I do  not 

5 


60 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


understand.  Will  you  please  tell  me 
what  a legend  is?” 

“Legend,  dear,  is  a story  of  a long 
time  ago,  which  accounts  for  something 
we  meet  with  now.  That  is  one  mean- 
ing of  it.” 

“One  thing  more,  mother,  about 
the  petrel,”  said  Alice.  “Why  are 
Mother  Carey’s  chickens  called  the 
storm-petrel?” 

“Because  they  are  seen  most  in 
stormy  weather.  Almost  anywhere 
at  sea,  if  a storm  is  approaching,  or, 
if  it  is  already  raging,  you  may  expect 
to  find  numbers  of  these  birds  flying 
in  the  wake  of  the  ship,  or  glancing 
over  the  crests  of  the  waves,  on  either 
hand,  reminding  you,  in  their  move- 
ments, of  the  swallow,  though  larger. 
Probably,  when  the  sea  is  rough,  the 
mollusks  and  other  small  marine  ani- 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


51 


mals,  on  which  they  feed,  are  brought 
to  the  surface,  which  makes  them  most 
active  then,  and  it  may  be  that  the 
keel  of  the  ship,  ploughing  through 
the  waves,  also  throws  them  up  to  the 
surface,  which  leads  them  to  follow  in 
the  ship’s  wake.” 

“Is  there  anything  more  to  tell 
about  them,  mother?”  asked  Frank. 

“I  used  to  see  them,  sometimes, 
sitting  on  the  water,  and  floating  like 
a swan  or  duck.  They  appeared  as 
much  at  home  riding  upon  the  waves 
in  mid-ocean  as  the  swans  do  in  the 
ponds  of  the  Central  Park.  It  some- 
times gave  me  a sort  of  home-feeling 
myself,  j ust  to  see  how  contented  these 
pretty  petrels  looked.” 

“I  think,”  said  Clarence,  “we  know 
all  about  the  petrels  now.  Did  you 
see  any  other  birds,  mother?” 


52 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“I  saw  something  which  you  might 
have  mistaken  for  a bird.”. 

“What  can  that  have  been?”  asked 
Frank. 

“A  flying-fish.” 

“A  fish  flying,”  said  Emma,  “may 
well  look  like  a bird,  for  the  body  of  a 
lish  is  shaped  much  like  that  of  a bird 
flattened,  and  the  tails  are  shaped 
much  alike,  and  the  scales  overlap  each 
other  much  like  the  tips  of  birds’ 
feathers,  and  the  backs  of  both  are 
very  often  dark-colored,  and  the  breasts 
light,  and  the  fins  have  a resemblance 
to  small  wings,  only  they  are  difter- 
ently  situated,  so  that  if  they  were 
used  for  wings,  the  fish  would  have  to 
fly  on  his  side.” 

“But  the  legs,  Emma,”  said  Frank; 
“fishes  have  nothing  to  answer  to  the 
bird’s  legs.” 


./  V 


Out  ut  ,'i'ea. 


I'l.ving-Fi.sl]. 


P.  62. 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


53 


“No,  but  wlien  birds  fly,  they  draw 
up  their  legs  often,  so  that  you  do  not 
see  much  of  them,”  she  replied. 

“Yes,”  said  Clarence,  “and  I haA'O 
seen  swallows  look  just  as  though  they 
were  flying  on  their  sides.  So  that  I 
tliink  with  a little  alteration,  birds 
and  Ashes  could  be  made  to  look  a 
good  deal  alike.” 

“ Doesn’t  it  say  in  Genesis,  mother,” 
asked  Emma,  “that  God  commanded 
the  waters  to  bring  forth  fowl  abund- 
antly, and  that  the  waters  did  bring 
forth  fowl  abundantly?” 

“Yes,  my  dear,  I have  sometimes 
thought  of  that  when  I have  seen 
them  careering  all  day  over  the  ocean  ; 
some  on  the  surface  of  the  water, 
and  some  in  the  open  Armament  r>f 
heaven.” 

“But  mother,”  said  Clarence,  “I 


54 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


thought  you  had  done  with  the  birds, 
and  were  going  to  tell  us  about  the 
tish  that  fly.” 

“Tliese  are  very  interesting  to  voy- 
agers. Thev  have  a breast  flu  that  is 
iinconiinonly  large  and  flexible,  and 
whicdi  they  can  extend  sidewise.  This 
tlwyy  use  with  a very  ra])id  motion 
like  that  of  the  humming-bird’s  wing. 
If  you  stand  at  the  prow  of  a ship 
when  passing  where  they  abound,  you 
will  see  a dozen  of  them  at  a time 
dart  out  from  the  water,  glance  along 
above  the  waves  for  a minute  or  less, 
aud  then  disappear. 

“The  approach  of  the  ship  through 
the  water  startles  them,  and  they  fly 
then,  probably  in  fright. 

“Sometimes  they  fly  out  of  the  water 
to  escape  the  larger  fish  that  feed  upon 
them.  The  poor  things  often  escape 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


55 


from  their  enemies  in  the  water,  only 
to  be  seized  by  equal  enemies  in  the 
air;  for  there  are  birds  too,  that  prey 
upon  them,  and  seize  the  opportunity 
when  they  are  flying-,  to  snatcdi  them. 
Sometimes  they  fly  apparently  for  the 
mere  pleasure  of  it.  Sometimes  they 
fly  over  a ship  and  descend  to  the  wa- 
ter on  the  other  side,  and  sometimes 
in  attempting-  this  gymnastic  feat,  they 
are  caught  in  the  rigging,  or  by  strik- 
ing- against  a rope  or  sail  are  precipi- 
tated upon  deck.” 

“They  should  not  be  experimenting 
with  apparatus  they  are  not  accus- 
tomed to,”  said  Clarence. 

“ Poor  things,”  said  Frank,  “ couldn’t 
you  pick  them  up  and  drop  them  into 
the  ocean  again  ?” 

“ They  would  not  live.  They  are  not 
used  to  hard  knocks,  and  can’t  endure 


56 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


them,  I imagine.  They  are  consid- 
ered a delicacy  for  food,  and  the  cook 
calls  them  fair  game  when  they  are 
floored  in  that  way.” 

“ Mother,”  said  Frank,  “you  have 
told  us  of  birds  that  walk  the  sea, 
and  of  Ashes  that  fly.  What  more 
Ash  stories  can  you  tell  us?” 

“I  think  the  next  must  be  about  a 
Ash  that  isn’t  a Ash.  Tso  one  would 
doubt,  on  seeing  a porpoise  in  the  wa- 
ter, that  it  was  a Ash.  Its  form  and 
its  movement  in  the  water  are  like 
those  of  a Ash,  but  because  it  is  warm- 
blooded, and  requires  common  air  to 
breathe,  and  for  other  reasons,  it  is  not 
reckoned  a Ash  by  naturalists.  It 
must  come  to  the  surface  of  the  water 
to  breathe  the  air,  just  as  a man  must, 
and  if  kept  under  the  water  it  will  be 
drowned,  as  it  has  lungs,  not  gills.  So 


SEA  SIGHTS. 


57 


the  whales  are  not  properly  fish,  but 
mammals,  or  WGrm-bloodcd  animals 
living  in  the  sea. 

“The  porpoise  and  grampus  Avere 
formerly  called  dolidiins;  the  fish  now 
known  as  the  dolphin  is  (juite  different, 
and  is  a proper  fish,  with  gills,  and 
cold  blood,  and  livine,'  under  the  water. 

“I  used  often  to  hear  that  a dolphin 
assumed  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow, 
when  dying.  I found,  however,  that 
it  changed  color  beautifully,  when 
alive,  and  well,  and  happy  in  the  wa- 
ter, varying  from  green  to  blue,  and 
from  blue  to  golden.  When  dying  it 
may  show  these  colors  more  vividl}^, 
but  I did  not  see  it  at  any  time  exhibit 
so  many  changes  as  some  haim  stated. 
It  is  between  four  and  five  feet  in 
length.” 

“I  had  no  idea,”  remarked  Emma, 


58 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“that  the  ocean  contained  so  many  ob- 
jects of  interest.” 

“It  does  indeed,  and  many  more. 
But,  my  children,  we  must  linger  no 
longer.  The  sun  has  set,  and  your 
father  will  be  waiting  for  his  tea.” 

“I  think,”  said  Alice,  “if  we  tell 
papa  that  we  have  been  half  way  to 
India,  he  will  excuse  us  if  ^ve  are  a 
little  late.” 


III. 


It  AIK,  GALES,  A\T>  FOGS. 

The  next  afternoon  found  our  little 
party  again  assembled  under  the  triple 
maple,  prepared  to  pursue  their  chat 
about  the  voyage  to  India.  Clarence 
had  become  so  much  interested  in  the 
conversation  that  he  now  seated  him- 
self at  once,  and  set  to  work  at  his 
tatten,  Aveaving  as  busily  as  any  girl. 

“Sister,”  said  Frank,  addressing 
Emma,  “I  wish  I could  do  something. 
I do  not  think  it’s  enough  to  have  my 
ears  Avork.  My  hands  get  restless.” 

“Brother,”  said  Emma,  “do  you  see 
the  long  smooth  grass  that  groAvs  about 


69 


60 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


those  stones  just  where  the  brook 
winds  almost  into  a circle?  Brino-  me 

o 

a good  handful  of  the  longest  of  it, 
and  if  you  will  l)reak  off  the  blades 
from  the  stalk,  and  lay  them  here  on 
this  handkerchief,  I will  teach  you 
how  to  braid  it;  and  when  jmu  have 
braided  enough,  you  can  make  a little 
basket  with  it.” 

“That’s  it,”  said  Frank.  “Clarence, 
come  help  me,  won’t  you?  Mother, 
please  not  to  begin  till  we  come.” 

“Don’t  stop  to  strip  it  off  till  you 
get  back ; pull  it  the  quickest  way,  and 
come,”  said  Emma. 

“ We  will  wait,”  said  Mrs.  Raymond. 

The  ladies  held  a consultation  over 
an  article  of  dress  that  Mrs.  Raymond 
was  assisting  Emma  to  make,  and  by 
the  time  they  had  arranged  all  to  their 
mind,  the  boys  had  gathered  their 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


61 


doLible-liancls  full  of  tall  grass,  and 
laid  it  on  the  ground  near  their  sis- 
ters, and  coninienced  stripping  the 
long,  pliable  leaves  from  the  stalks, 
and  placing  them  in  a row  along  the 
handkerchief  which  Emma  had  spread 
to  receive  tliem.  Frank  watched  for 
his  mother  and  sister  to  finish  their 
talk  about  their  sewing,  and  then 
said. 

“Mother,  you  said  the  other  day 
that  the  ship  sailed  at  the  rate  of  ‘ ten 
knots’  an  hour.  AVill  you  tell  me  what 
that  means?” 

“Ten  miles  an  hour.” 

“Then  why  not  say  ten  miles?”  he 
asked. 

“ The  expression  is  taken  from  the 
instrument  used  in  measuring  the  dis- 
tance.” 


6 


62 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“I  wonder,”  said  Frank,  “what 
kind  of  an  instrument  it  is.” 

“It  is  a knotted  cord,  one  end  of 
which  is  wound  upon  a large  hand- 
reel,  and  the  other  end  attached  to 
Avhat  is  called  a log.  The  log  is  a 
small  bit  of  wood  so  shaped,  and  -so 
balanced  by  a piece  of  lead,  that  it 
floats,  and  remains  in  the  place  where 
it  is  thrown  in  the  water.  As  the 
ship  passes  on,  the  cord  unwinds  from 
the  reel.  The  knots  arc  made  at  such 
distances  along  the  cord,  as  to  show,  by 
the  number  of  knots  run  off  in  a cer- 
tain time,  how  many  miles  are  gone 
over  in  an  hour.” 

“ I do  not  quite  understand  about 
it,”  said  Fraidv. 

“ Mamma,”  said  Emma,  “ if  we 
took  a spool  of  cotton  for  a reel,  and 
put  a knitting-needle  through  it  for 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


63 


tlie  axle,  I think  we  could  show  him 
something  about  it.  Clarence,  will 
you  bring  me  something  for  a log.” 

“ Here,”  said  Clarence,  “ is  a stone 
to  tie  the  end  of  the  thread  to,  and 
that  will  do  for  a log.  It  is  sharp, 
and  I can  drive  it  into  the  ground,  so 
it  won’t  float  away,  and  I will  be  the 
ship  with  the  reel  aboard  of  me.” 

“ Take  hold,”  said  Emma,  “ of  the 
axle  of  the  spool,  i.  e.  the  knitting- 
needle,  and  do  not  let  the  thread  rub 
against  you.  Walk  straight  forward, 
till  I speak  to  you.  Mamma,  please 
let  me  hold  your  watch  a minute. 
Clarence,  come  now,  bring  the  spool 
just  as  it  is,  don’t  let  it  unwind  any.” 
Clarence  walked  just  a minute. 
“Now  if  I measure  the  cotton  that 
reaches  from  where  he  stands  to  the  log, 
that  is,  the  stone  Avhich  keeps  the  end 


64 


OUT  AT  SEA, 


of  the  thread  in  the  place  where  Clar- 
ence started  from,  can  I not  tell  by 
that  how  far  he  has  walked  in  a min- 
ute?” 

“ Yes,”  said  Frank, 

“Alice,”  said  Emma,  “the  width 
of  your  apron  is  about  a yard.  Please 
hold  it  up  fur  me  to  measure  the 
thread  by  it.  Just  about  thirty  yards, 
Clarence  must  have  walked  about 
thirty  yards  in  a minute,” 

“ I see  now,”  said  Frank,  “ how  they 
do  it.  But  do  they  have  a cord  ten 
miles  long,  and  are  they  an  hour  about 
it?” 

“ Oh,  no,  they  do  it  in  a half-min- 
ute,” 

“ Oh  ! mother,”  exclaimed  Alice, 

“ A minute  you  know  is  the  six- 
tieth part  of  an  hour,  so  a half-min- 
ute is  the  120th  of  an  hour.  So  they 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


65 


make  a knot  at  every  120th  of  a mile 
on  the  cord,  and  if  ten  120ths  run  off 
in  a half-minute,  they  know  t\at  ten 
miles  run  off  in  an  hour.” 

“ I thank  you,  mother,”  said  Frank. 
“ I think,”  said  Clarence,  “ you 
might  thank  your  sister  Emma,  too, 
and  the  old  ship  that  took  such  a sail 
to  make  an  illustration  for  you.” 

“ Thank  you,  sistei',  tliank  you,  ship.” 
Emma  now  took  seven  blades  of 
grass,  and  began  weaving  them  into  a 
neat  flat  braid,  adding  a new  blade  as 
often  as  one  was  all  braided  in.  She 
asked  Frank  to  watch  her  movements 
fill  he  should  know  enough  how  it  was 
done  to  begin  trying  to  do  it  himself. 

“ Mother,”  said  Alice,  “may  I drink 
some  water  out  of  this  brook?  It 
seems  very  clear  and  nice.” 

“ Yes,  my  daughter.  It  comes  from 


66 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


a clear  spring  among  the  hills  yonder, 
and  runs  over  the  clean  pebbles,  and 
through  the  fresh  grass.  You  will 
tind  it  very  good.  If  you  could  see 
some  of  the  water  I drank  at  sea,  you 
would  not  hesitate  to  drink  this.” 

“1  don’t  see,”  said  Frank,  “where 
you  could  get  water  at  sea,  unless  you 
dipped  it  from  the  ocean.” 

“ Ocean  water  is  very  salt,  and  a 
little  bitter ; it  nauseates  people,”  re- 
marked Alice. 

“ Let  me  make  you  a cup,  Alice. 
Stop  a minute,  and  I’ll  bring  a button- 
wood  leaf.  You  can  double  it,  and 
drink  nicely  out  of  it,”  said  Clarence 
running  toward  the  hill. 

Frank  begi>-ed  his  mother  to  tell 
what  they  did  for  water  at  sea.  And 
as  soon  as  Clarence  was  in  his  seat 
again,  Mrs.  Raymond  began. 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  67 

We  took  water  in  casks  for  our 
use  on  the  voyage,  but  when  we  came 
into  the  torrid  zone,  it  soon  became 
offensive,  and  grew  thick  and  slimy, 
so  that  one  would  suffer  a good  deal 
from  thirst,  before  being  willing  to 
drink  it.  After  our  water  began  to 
be  distasteful,  we  watched  eagerly  for 
a-shower,  hoping  we  might  catch  some 
pure  rai,n  water.  Day  after  day  passed, 
and  at  length  the  clouds  foreboded 
rain.  It  came  in  torrents.  I was 
called  to  a window,  Avhich  looked  out 
from  the  mate’s  room  upon  the  deck, 
to  see  the  process  of  collecting  the  wa- 
fer. The  scuppers,  which  are  holes  to 
let  the  Avater  off  from  the  deck,  were 
closed,  and  the  Avater  began  to  collect 
on  the  deck.  At  every  roll  of  the 
ship,  it  Avashed  across  the  deck,  and 
when  the  ship  lay  over  on  one  side, 


68 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


there  would  be  half  a foot  in  depth  on 
the  lower  side.  Sailors  were  running 
about  in  it,  and  soon  began  to  wash 
their  red  flannel  shirts  and  other  arti- 
cles. Is  this,  thought  I,  to  be  water 
for  us  to  drink?  Kext  the  old  hogs- 
heads were  emptied  and  scrubbed  out. 
Then  the  sailors  began  to  give  a very 
thorough  scrubbing  to  their  feet  and 
legs.  Alas,  alas,  thought  I,  the  rain 
is  all  going  to  waste,  and  I see  no  ar- 
raim-ements  for  catching  water.  Are 
we  doomed  to  drink  still  longer  that 
sickening  fluid  we  have  forced  into  our 
mouths  lately  ?” 

“The  scuppers  now  were  opened,  to 
let  out  the  water  which  was  on  the 
deck,  then  they  were  closed  again,  and 
after  a little  while,  re-opened,  and 
closed  again.  By  this  time  the  masts 
and  sails,  the  yards  and  rigging  of  the 


Frcsli  Water  at  Sea. 


Out  at  Sea. 


1>.  08. 


itv  - >■ 


>v 


J 


: 


■ * 

f 


i 

t 


f 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


69 


ship  had  been  Avell  rinsed  and  re- 
rinsed, as  well  as  the  tarpaulins  of 
officers,  and  the  clothes  of  the  men ; 
and  the  roofs  of  I’ound  house,  and  hen- 
nery and  caboose,  nnd  the  surface  of 
the  deck,  all  were  cleansed  and  fitted 
to  serve  as  water-sheds  for  the  collec- 
tion of  our  beverage.  I began  to  ap- 
preciate the  necessity  of  this  rinsing 
and  re-rinsing  of  everything,  when 
for  the  third  time,  the  scuppers  Avere 
closed,  and  the  Avater,  after  dropping 
doAvn,  not  from  the  clouds  only,  but 
from  everything  on  or  aboA^e  the  ship, 
and  after  SAvashing  to  and  fro  over 
the  deck  a feAv  times,  began  to  be 
scooped  up  in  clean  buckets,  and  emp- 
tied into  our  Avater-casks.  By-and- 
by  an  officer  of  the  ship  brought  a 
tumbler  of  water  for  me  to  drink.  I 
seized  it  Avith  unfeigned  delight,  but 


70 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


no  sooner  had  I tasted,  than  I was 
obliged  to  withdraw  it  in  disappoint- 
ment from  my  unsatistied  lips.  It 
had,  as  we  might  have  expected,  a 
strono- odor  of  tar.  AVe  soon  however 

o 

learned  to  prefer  this  very  decidedly 
to  the  fetid  water  which  we  had  lately 
been  compelled  to  drink.  Ships  in 
these  days  are  furnished  with  filters, 
Avhich  restore  water  in  a measure  to  a 
■wholesome  condition.  Moreover  it 
has  been  found  that  water  can  be  kept 
pure  at  sea  by  simply  bottling  and 
sealing,  so  as  to  exclude  the  air,  and 
that  it  will  go  thus  half  round  the 
world,  and  be  as  free  from  taint  at  the 
end  as  at  the  beginning  of  the 
voyage.” 

“I  wish,  dear  mother,”  said  Alice, 
“ you  would  give  us  some  idea  of  a 
storm  at  sea.” 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


71 


“ I think,  dear,  it  would  be  one  of 
the  most  difficult  things  to  give  you 
an  idea  of.  A storm  at  sea,  is  but  a 
storm  after  all,  and  rarely,  if  ever, 
more  violent  than  storms  which  we 
witness  on  land.  It  is  your  own  po- 
sition and  liabilities  in  the  storm,  and 
the  impression  made  on  the  mind  by 
these,  that  give  importance  to  the  cir- 
cumstances and  sublimity  to  the 
scenes  of  a storm  at  sea. 

“I  was  impressed  by  this  in  the  first 
storm  at  sea  which  I witnessed.  I 
Avas  looking  in  A^ain  for  anything  neAV 
and  Avonderful.  The  rain  fell  thick 

^ V- 

and  fast  upon  the  Avater,  thfe  clouds 
Avere  dark  and  Ioav,  but  tliis  I had  seen 
at  home.  I knew  tliat  avc  Avere  driven 
Avith  great  velocity  before  a fierce  Avind, 
but  this  did  not  affect  the  senses,  as 
we  passed  no  objects  by  Avhich  to 


72 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


measure  our  speed,  and  the  very  force 
with  which  the  sliip  cleft  the  sea, 
seemed  to  husli  the  plash  and  swash 
of  the  wa’^TS,  and  produce  an  unusual 
stillness.  Our  ship  tipped  very  much, 
hut  this  only  made  us  see  the  water 
at  a different  angle.  Suddenly  our 
captain  directed  my  attention  to  a 
ship  at  some  distance,  which  was  much 
in  the  situation  of  ours.  The  wind 
had  her  on  her  heam-ends.  The  sea 
raged  round  her  like  a furv.  The 
clouds  poured  torrents,  and  looked  as 
if  thev  were  falling  in  masses  to  crush 
her.  It  seemed  as  though  she  were  a 
l’>owerless  thing,  and  heaven  and  sea 
had  roused  their  utmost  forces,  bent 
on  her  instant  destruction. 

“ The  storm  had  another  aspect  now. 
I wondered  that  our  ship  could  sus- 
tain itself  a moment.  Every  sense 


RAIN,  GALEb,  AND  FOGS.  73 

was  awake,  what  was  seen,  and  heard 
and  felt  had  new  meaning.  The  si- 
lence spoke  of  force,  the  darkness 
spoke  of  danger,  each  creak  was  a 
warning,  each  hollow  in  the  sea  was 
an  opening  gulf,  each  lifted  wave  gath- 
ered itself  up,  as  it  seemed,  to  over- 
whelm us.  Our  gallant  ship  with  all 
its  ropes  and  spars  seemed  no  better 
than  an  egg-shell  wound  round  with 
spiders’  webs.  I obtained  then  an 
idea  of  a storm  at  sea,  but  I despair 
of  being  able  to  impart  it  to  any- 
one.” 

“ I hope,”  said  Alice,  “you  Avill  not 
give  up  in  despair.  I am  sure  w^e 
have  some  new  ideas  of  the  subject 
from  what  you  have  said,  and  I for 
one  wish  A'ery  much  to  hear  more.” 

“ I could  tell  you  of  some  quite 

amusing  things  about  storms  at  sea.” 

1 


74 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ That  is  strange,”  said  Emma,  “but 
do  tell  us.” 

“We  had  a queer  contrivance  for 
keeping  our  dishes  on  the  table  in 
rough  weather.  Long  narrow  bags 
filled  Avith  shot,  were  placed  upon  the 
table,  both  lengtliAvise  and  crosswise, 
looking  like  a coarse  net-Avork  of  ropes, 
each  mesh  of  a size  to  hold  a plate. 
These  rope-like  bags  AA^re  fastened  at 
both  ends,  but  played  to  and  fro  upon 
the  table,  alloAAung  the  plates  to  slip 
Avith  them  either  AA^ay,  as  the  motion 
of  the  Amssel  compelled,  yet  holding 
them  on  the  table.  Sometimes  the 
AA'eather  changed  unexpectedly,  Avhile 
Ave  Avere  at  a meal,  or  the  AAund  shifted 
suddenly  to  a ditferent  quarter,  and 
the  rough- weather  fixtures  being  ab- 
sent, every  plate,  cup  and  saucer. was 
suddenly  overturned,  and  with  their 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


75 


contents  deposited,  in  our  laps,  or  upon 
the  floor.” 

“ If  I were  hungry,”  said  Alice,  “ I 
should  be  more  vexed  than  amused,  I 
think.” 

“ That  would  be  a pretty  good  joke 
for  once  or  twice,”  said  Frank,  “ but  a 
hungry  boy  would  not  like  to  lose  his 
dinner  many  times.” 

“ What  oth^r  funny  things  hap- 
pened, mother?”  asked  Clarence. 

“Well,  I suppose  little  boys  would 
think  it  quite  agreeable  while  sitting 
with  books  and  papers  under  the  light 
of  the  hatchway,  on  a clear  bright  day, 
when  the  wind  was  aft,  and  the  vessel 
rolling  heavily,  to  ship  a sea,  and  all 
on  a sudden  have  a few  tubfuls  of  wa- 
ter poured  down  upon  them.” 

“ First-rate,”  cried  Clarence,  clap- 
ping his  hands  with  glee.  “ Ship  a 


76 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


sea,  ship  a sea!  That’s  the  kind  of 
shipping  for  me.” 

“ But  how  would  you  like  to  have 
the  hatchway  closed  down  upon  you 
in  rough  weather,  and  he  obliged  to 
sit  Avithout  a breath  of  out-door  air, 
Avithout,  for  a feAv  days,  a ray  of  light, 
except  one  feeble  lamp  for  ten  persons, 
and  that  suspended  immovably-  to  the 
ceiling  for  safety.” 

“ Not  so  AA'ell,”  said  Clarence,  qui- 
etly. 

“ Were  you  shut  up  in  that  Avay  at 
sea?” 

“ Occasionally.” 

“ What  else,  mamma?  ” asked  Frank. 

“ Hoav  AA'ould  you  like  a scene  of  this 
i Ind  ? Suppose  yourself  and  friends 
Avore  seated,  five  or  six  on  one  side  of 
the  cabin,  and  five  or  six  on  the  other 
side,  each  in  a chair  that  Avas  lashed 


KAIN,  GALES,  ANP  FOGS. 


77 


to  the  partition,  or  secured  in  its  place 
by  braces.  In  an  instant,  without 
warning,  as  you  converse  quietly  to- 
gether, the  ship  gives  what  the  sailors 
call  a sudden  ‘lurch,’  and  the  chairs 
on  one  side  of  the  cabin  empty  them- 
selves, and  the  occupants  are  deposited, 
willing  or  unwilling,  in  the  arms  of 
their  friends  on  the  other  side,  fore- 
heads and  noses  getting  bumps  and 
bruises.” 

“ That  might  be  either  agreeable  or 
disagreeable,  I think,”  said  Clarence. 
“ If  they  were  friends  I loved  very 
much,  it  would  not  be  so  much  harm, 
unless  they  found  my  head  harder  than 
theirs.” 

“ Give  us  another  scene,  mother, 
please,”  said  Frank. 

“ I will  mention  one  that  occurred 
on  my  return  voyage.  We  had  had  a 

7 * 


78 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


gale  for  two  weeks,  when  suddenly  it 
died  away,  and  the  sea  retained  the 
full’  fury  to  which  the  storm  had 
roused  it.  This  is  a somewhat  danger- 
ous state  of  things,  as  the  ship  is  less 
controllable  in  a heavy  sea  without 
wind  to  steady  it. 

“ We  were  locked  in  sleep.  Sud- 
denly our  room,  which,  when  we  shut 
our  eyes  upon  it,  was  in  midnight 
darkness,  was  bathed  in  the  broadest 
moonlight,  and  our  couch  and  Ave 
Avere  bathed  in  a broad  deep  Avave. 

“ My  first  impression,  on  waking, 
Avas  that  the  ship  had  sjAlit  open  above 
our  heads,  and  let  moon  and  sea  in  to- 
gether upon  us.  AVe  found  however 
that  our  two  stern  AvindoAvs,  Avhich 
from  their  size  and  fine  look-out,  had 
given  us  so  much  pleasure,  but  Avhich 
on  account  of  the  storm  had  been 


BAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS,  79 

closed  with  strong  boards  nailed  across, 
and  strong  bars  nailed  again  across 
the  boards,  had  been  dashed  through, 
glass,  timber,  bars,  nails  and  all,  with 
one  stroke  of  a wave,  and  the, said 
wave,  after  soaking  our  clothes  and 
bedding,  and  cooling  and  washing  us, 
was  careering  at  will  through  the  cab- 
ins, and  finding  a vent  for  itself  down 
the  lower  cabin  stair-way.” 

“ And  did  the  water  keep  pouring 
in  all  the  time?”  asked  Frank. 

“ Oh ! no,  that  was  a very  large 
wave,  and  the  succeeding  ones  did  not 
mount  so  high.  The  carpenter  soon 
came  in  with  his  tools,  and  stronger 
nails  and  boards,  and  secured  the  win- 
dows. And  Avhat  do  }'oii  think  the 
carpenter  said  to  us,  as  he  came  in. 
‘This,’  said  he,  ‘is  sent,  because  I was 
required  to  come  and  do  some  ork  in 


80 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


this  cahin  last  Sunday.’  This  was  be- 
fore day  on  Sunday  morning,  and  we 
remembered  that  on  the  Sunday  pre- 
vious, some  heavy  tlmwers  full  of 
clothes  had  broken  from  their  fasten- 
ings, and  were  tumbling  back  and 
forth  across  the  floor,  which  having- 
no  means  of  securing,  we  had  men- 
tioned it  to  the  captain,  who  re- 
quired the  carpenter  to  come  in  and 
secure  them  for  us.  Whether  he 
really  thought  this  order  was  a breach 
of  the  day,  and  that  the  catastrophe 
of  the  eighth  day  after,  w-as  sent  in 
judgment,  or  whether  it  was  a covered 
thrust  at  what  he  thought  our  super- 
stition, I do  not  know.” 

“ But  what  about  waves  runnino- 

o 

‘ mountains  high  ?’  Is  that  true,  mam- 
ma?” asked  Alice. 

“ Waves  have  some  resemblance  to 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  81 

mountains  in  form,  dear,  and  when 
you  see  them  rise  before  you,  and  rise 
higher  and  higher,  wave  beyond  wave, 
and  have  no  means  of  measuring  their 
height,  or  of  judging  how  much  higher 
they  will  rise;  and  when  one  imagines 
that  if  they  should  fall  over  the  ship, 
or  should  upset  it,  probable,  if  not 
certain  ruin  would  ensue,  is  it  strange 
if  the  height  seems  mountainous ; if 
he  supposes  thirty  feet  of  height  to  be 
a thousand  ? Thirty  feet  is  estimated 
to  be  the  height  of  the  highest  waves. 
But  thirty  feet  of  inclined  plane  reach- 
ing from  the  spot  where  you  stand  to 
the  horizon,  and  being  the  highest  ob- 
ject in  view  except  the  heavens,  will 
appear  a much  greater  height  than  it 
really  is.” 

“But,  mother,”  asked  Clarence, 
“were  jmu  not  afraid  of  the  waves. 


82 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


any  how  ? They  were  high  enough  to 
yow,  were  they  not?” 

They  were  high  enough,  dear,  but 
it  is  not  their  way.” 

“What  do  you  mean,  mother?” 
asked  Clarence. 

I mean  that  wa^  es  do  not  usually 
fall  in  such  a manner  as  to  bury  a ship, 
y ou  have  the  impression  that  waves 
rush  through  the  ocean  as  the  surf 
lushes  U2>on  the  shore,  but  in  mid- 
ocean it  is  not  so.  The  wave  near 
a ship  falls  in  its  own  place,  with- 
out approaching  the  ship,  and  the 
water,  where  the  ship  floats,  is  in  its 
tuin,  elevated  into  a wave,  raising  the 
shij)  on  its  bosom.  The  highest  wave 
will  not  bury  a ship,  because  it  sinks 
where  it  rises,  and  will  not  reach  the 
ship.  This  is  the  case  usually.  Yet 
there  are  certain  conditions  of  the  sea, 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


83 


and  of  the  winds,  which  result  in 
dangerous  waves,  and  certain  condi- 
tions of  a ship,  which  expose  it  to  be 
engulfed  by  these  waves.  The  chief 
danger,  however,  when  in  mid- ocean, 
is  from  sudden  squalls  striking  a ship, 
while  all  her  sails  are  set,  before  there 
is  time  to  get  her  in  trim  to  bear  the 
blast.  AVith  this  exception,  good 
strong  vessels  with  skilful  command- 
ers, are  pretty  safe  in  mid-ocean.  Ship- 
wrecks occur  chiefly  when  the  ships 
are  near  land,  and  result  from  being 
driven  by  the  wind  upon  rocks  or 
sands.” 

“ Mother,  were  you  ever  ship- 
wrecked?” asked  Alice. 

“ No,  dear.” 

“ Did  you  ever  come  near  it?”  asked 
Frank. 

“ It  is  not  easy  to  tell,  dear.  Per- 


84 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


sons  often  think  themselves  in  immi- 
nent clanger,  when  they  are  not ; and 
on  the  other  hand,  persons  unused  to 
the  sea,  may  he  in  danger  without  ap- 
preciating their  situation.  I may  say 
there  were  times  when  we  thought 
ourselves  in  danger.”  ^ 

“ When  was  it,  where  was  it?  Tell 
us  about  it,  mother,”  said  one  and 
another,  eagerly. 

“ We  had  a succession  of  gales,  for 
three  weeks,  while  we  were  going 
lound  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  . Our 
captain  told  us  we  might  double  the 
Caj)e  twenty  times  without  encounter- 
ing such  weather.  Several  times  we 
lay  to,  several  times  Avere  obliged  to 
take  in  all  sail,  except  a close-reefed  * 
main-topsail.  At  one  time  there  Ac^as 
a squall  of  hail  that  split  the  main 
and  fore-topsails,  and  carried  away  the 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


85 


bolt  of  the  main-topmast  back-stay ; 
at  another  time  the  mainyard  gave 
way,  and  the  main-topsail,  that  had 
been  renewed,  again  split,  and  some 
of  the  bulwarks  were  stove  in  by  a 
wave.  At  another  time,  when  the  sea 
was  uncommonly  rough,  and  the  ship 
rolling  dreadfully,  chairs  and  other  ar- 
ticles broke  from  their  fastenings,  and 
slid  or  tumbled  headlong  back  and 
forth  across  the  cabin.  Between  decks 
where  ship-stores  were  kept,  barrels 
and  boxes  were  broken,  and  flour,  in- 
dian-meal,  corn,  rice,  oil,  and  broken 
bottles  were  mingled  without  recipe 
or  arrangement. 

“ These  incidents  were  counted  tri- 
fles, so  long  as  our  good  ship  rode  the 
sea,  and  limb  and  life  of  all  on  board  were 
safe.  Sometimes,  however,  as  I said^ 
we  considered  our  situation  critical. 


8 


86 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


I remember  one  day  of  great  inter- 
est. The  wind  blew  with  a fury  Ave 
had  not  before  witnessed.  All  the 
sails  were  taken  in,  except  the  main- 
topsail,  stormsail,  and  close-reefed 
fore-topsail,  and  these  so  arranged  as 
to  make  the  ship  ‘ lay  to,’  e.  keep 
its  position  Avithout  moving  foi’Avard 
in  any  direction.  The  gale  roared 
through  the  masts  and  rigging,  as 
through  a forest  of  pines,  the  ship’s 
timbers  creaked  and  groaned.  E\mry 
neAV  gust  came  Avith  greater  force  than 
those  Avhich  had  preceded  it. 

“ The  captain  and  officers  looked 
anxious.  The  super-cargo,  aa'Iio  had 
before  shoAA'ed  great  indifference  to 
danger,  looked  distressed,  and  eAU- 
dently  A\^as  giving  place  to  reflections, 
to  AAdiich  he  AA^as  not  accustomed  to 
yield.  Thoughts  of  the  poAver  of  the 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


87 


Creator  who  ‘ walketh  upon  the  wings 
of  the  wind;’  thoughts  of  accounta- 
bility to  Him,  of  the  possibility  of  be- 
ing suddenly  ushered  into  his  presence, 
could  scarcely  fail  to  arise  in  every 
mind.  The  missionary  circle  assem- 
bled in  and  about  the  little  state-room 
of  one  of  their  number,  for  worship. 
A passage  of  Scripture  was  read,  one 
of  the  missionaries  led  in  prayer,  and 
then  we  sang  the  Psalm, 

‘ How  are  thy  servants  blest,  O Lord ! 

How  sure  is  their  defence  ! 

Eternal  wisdom  is  their  guide, 

Their  help.  Omnipotence. 

‘When  by  the  dreadful  tempest  borne, 

High  on  the  broken  wave. 

They  know  thou  art  not  slow  to  hear, 

Hor  impotent  to  save 

‘ The  storm  is  laid,  the  winds  retire. 

Obedient  to  thy  will ; 

The  sea,  that  roars  at  thy  command, 

At  thy  command  is  still.’ 


88 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


While  we  were  singing  with  all  our 
hearts  that  grand  and  precious  Psalm, 
the  steward  entered,  bringing  the  re- 
spects of  the  super-cargo,  and  desir- 
ing us  to  desist  from  so  great  an  im- 
l^ropriety  as  singing  at  such  a time. 

“ After  another  prayer,  some  of  our 
number  went  on  deck.  One  returned 
immediately,  bringing  word  that  the 
tempest  had  ceased ! I went  upon 
deck,  and  a beautiful  and  glorious 
sight  met  my  eyes.  The  sun  shone 
y ith  its  utmost  splendor.  The  clouds, 
now  changed  to  a brilliant  white,  and 
bioken  and  scattered,  were  hastening 
to  quit  the  scene.  The  rich  blue  waves, 
as  they  broke  one  against  another, 
thiew  their  white  foam  in  glittering 
columns  toward  the  sky.  The  wind 
had  moderated,  and  changed  its  direc- 
tion, but  was  still  brisk,  and  bore  us 


KAISr,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


89 


dasliingly  over  the  tossing  billows.  In 
contrast  with  the  gloomy  and  terrific 
scenes  of  an  hour  before,  all  this  was 
most  exhilarating  and  delightful.  The 
captain  remarked,  ‘This  is  peculiar 
weather.’  The  first  officer  exclaimed, 
‘Thank  fortune  it’s  over.’  I could  not 
refrain  from  replying,  ‘ 0 that  men 
would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  good- 
ness, and  for  his  wonderful  works.’  ” 

IS'o  one  spoke  for  a minute  or  so. 
Then  Emma  said,  “Winds  and  waves 
though  terrible  at  times,  are  often 
grand  and  beautiful,  but  fogs  at  sea 
bring  nothing  to  my  mind  but  gloom 
and  terror.” 

“ I cannot  see  what  great  harm  a 
fog  can  do  to  a ship,”  said  Frank. 
“ It  cannot  wet  it  very  much,  and  it 
can’t  hinder  its  running,  nor  break  it, 
nor  sink  it.” 


90 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“A  fog  can  do  a ship  no  harm  di- 
rectly ; but  it  can  do  it  a great  deal  of 
harm  indirectly.” 

“ How,  mother?”  asked  Frank. 

“ First,  by  preventing  certain  things 
from  doing  it  any  good ; and  second, 
by  letting  certain  things  do  it  harm.” 
“ What  things  can  it  prevent  from 
doing  it  good?” 

“ The  sun,  moon  and  stars.” 

“Oh,  yes,  it  is  not  so  warm  ^vith- 
out  the  sun,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  look 
at  the  moon  and  stars,  but  all  that  is 
of  little  consequence.” 

“The  sun,  moon  and  stars  do  a ship 
far  more  essential  services  than  those 
you  mention.” 

“How,  mother?”  inquired  Frank. 

“ They  guide  it  on  its  course.” 

“ I thought,”  said  Cla  rence,  “a ship’s 
course  was  directed  by  the  compass.” 


KAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  91 

“ A compass  is  of  use,  but  is  quite 
insufficient.  It  shows  which  way  is 
north,  and  you  can  tell  by  it  whether 
you  are  going  East  or  West,  or  North 
or  South,  but  it  cannot  tell  how  many 
degrees  North  or  South,  East  or  West 
you  are,  so  that  a compass  cannot  in- 
form you  where  you  are,  or  which  way 
you  must  go  to  reach  any  desired 
place,  or  to  avoid  any  dangerous 
place.” 

“ And  can  the  sun  or  moon  or  stars 
tell  us  anything  about  where  we  are, 
or  ought  to  be?”  asked  Frank,  quite 
puzzled. 

“ They  cannot  tell  us  exactly,”  said 
Emma,  “but we  can  tell  by  studying 
them.  Seamen  and  people  that  travel 
in  deserts  and  lonely  places  have  to 
consult  the  stars  a great  deal,  and 
never  feel  quite  safe,  unless  they  see 


92 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


them  often.  Don’t  you  know  how  in 
the  account  of  Paul’s  shipwreck,  it 
says,  ‘When  neither  sun  nor  stars  in 
many  days  appeared,  and  no  small 
tempest  lay  on  us,  all  hope  that  we 
should  be  saved  was  then  taken  away  ?’  ” 

“ Consult  the  stars  !”  said  Frank  in 
a low  tone,  and  as  though  of  Emma’s 
whole  speech  only  those  three  words 
had  made  an  impression  on  his 
mind. 

“ I have  heard  about  consulting  the 
stars,”  said  Clarence,  sharing  the  mys- 
terious thoughts  that  gathered  in 
Frank’s  mind,  and  more  ready  to  ex- 
press them,  “ but  I Avas  always  told 
that  it  was  done  only  by  persons  Avho 
Avished  to  impose  on  the  Aveak  and  ig- 
norant. Will  you  please  tell  me, 
mamma,  Avhether  this  hasn’t  some- 
thing to  do  with  astrology?” 


EAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  93 

This  was  said  with  a deliberation 
quite  unusual  for  Clarence,  and  a 
gravity  which  almost  tempted  his  sis- 
ter to  smile,  but  mamma  answered 
quietly, 

“ !N^o  farther  than  this,  Clarence, 
that  because  our  place  on  the  earth 
can  be  learned  by  ascertaining  the 
places  of  the  sun  and  planets,  design- 
ing men  take  advantage  of  the  fact,  and 
make  ignorant  persons  believe  that 
many  other  things  can  be  learned  in 
the  same  way.” 

Frank  expressed  his  relief  in  a long 
breath,  and  Clarence  said, 

“ I would  like  very  much  to  know 
how  Ave  can  learn  anything  from  the 
stars.” 

“ It  requires  a good  deal  of  study 
to  be  able  to  make  the  calculations 
necessary,”  said  Mrs.  Raymond. 


94 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“I  would  study  till  I was  gray,’ 
said  Frank,  “ to  find  it  out.” 

iVIaninia,  said  Emma,  ‘‘  will  you 
let  me  try  to  give  them  an  idea  about 
it?” 

“ Certainly,  dear.” 

“ Alice,”  said  Emma,  “ please  walk 
otf  toward  the  wood,  and  stand  mid- 
way between  that  tall  walnut-tree,  and 
that  little  stunted  maj^le,  but  two  or 
three  rods  this  way  from  them. 

“ Clarence  and  Frank,  let  me  give 
you  positions  a good  deal  further  otF 
from  the  wood,  and  at  some  distance 
from  each  other. 

“ A^ow,  Clarence,  look  at  Alice,  and 
tell  me  where  she  seems  to  be  stand- 
ing.” 

“ She  is  not  standing  where  you  told 
her  at  all,  sister,  but  close  by  the 
black  walnut.” 


KAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


95 


“Oh!  no,  Clarence,”  said  Frank. 
“ What  makes  you  say  so  ? Can’t  you 
tell  a maple-tree?  It’s  the  maple- 
tree  she  is  standing  near.” 

“Which  do  you  say,  Clarence,” 
said  Emma,  “ she  is  standing  near  the 
maple,  is  she?” 

“ No,  sister,  it  is  the  black  walnut, 
I say.  That’s  what  I said  at  first,” 
said  Clarence. 

“ I can’t  tell,”  said  Frank,  “what 
you  are  thinking  about.  She  is  as 
near  O2oposite  to  the  ma2)le  as  can  be, 
and  ever  so  far  from  the  black  wal- 
■ nut.”' 

“ Now,  boys,”  said  Emma,  “ change 
j)laces,  just  as  though  you  were  jolay- 
ing  ‘ Puss  in  the  corner.’  Run,  now, 
both  of  you  at  once,  and  do  not  let 
anybody  snatch  your  corner  from 
you.” 


96 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


The  boys  ran  and  changed  lolaces, 
and  Clarence  said,  “Avhat  shall  wexlo 
next,  sister?” 

“Look  round,  now,”  said  Emma, 
“^and  tell  me  where  Alice  is  standing. 
Ton,  Flank,  first.  Is  she  standing 
by  the  mnplo-tree,  now?” 

“ Poll !”  said  Frank,  “ she’s  moved 
non-.  There,  sister,  you  set  us  run- 
aing  just  so  ive  need  not  see  her 
cliange  iier  piace.  Kmv,  slie  is  by  the 

black  walnut,  of  course,  but  she  wasn’t 
before.”  , 

“I  can’t  help  laughing,”  said  Clar- 
ence.^  “ L is  some  trick,  that’s  plain.  ’ 
It  s just  as  clear  to  mo  that  she  is  by 
the  maple  this  time,  as  it  was  before 
that  she  was  by  the  black  walnut. 
This  IS  some  game  I haven’t  been  Jet 
into  yet.” 

JN^ow,  Frank,”  said  Emma,  “ walk 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


97 


over  quietly  to  where  Clarence  stands. 
Tell  us  now  where  Alice  stands.” 
Frank,  after  going  over,  says, 

“ By  the  maple.” 

“ Of  course  she  does,”  said  Clarence. 
“ Now,  both  of  you,”  said  Emma, 
“walk  back  together  to  where  Frank 
stood.” 

They  did  so,  and  both  together  said, 
“ She  is  by  the  black  Avalnut.” 

“ I don’t  understand  it,”  said  Clar- 
ence. 

“Now,  both  walk  again  back  to 
where  Clarence  stood,  and  look  at 
Alice  as  you  go.” 

“ It  seems,”  said  Clarence,  “ as 
though  she  changes  her  place,  too.” 

“ As  fast  as  we  go  to  one  side,”  said 
Frank,  “ she  goes  to  the  other,  or  at 
least  it  looks  very  much  so.” 

“ Alice  has  not  changed  her  place 

9 


98 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


at  all,”  said  Emma,  “ neither  has  she 
been  in  front  of  either  the  maple  or 
black  walnut,  but  when  we  move  from 
one  place  to  another,  the  things  about 
iis  look  as  though  they  were  not  where 
they  really  are.” 

“ Oh  ! yes,”  said  Clarence.  “ I have 
seen  that  often,  but  I never  thought 
much  about  it.  When  you  ride  in  a 
car,  you  see  it  very  ]3lainly.” 

“ I have  thought  a great  deal  about 
It,  but  could  not  tell  why  it  was,”  said 
Frank. 

“What  is  all  this  about,  sister?  I 
thought  you  were  going  to  teach  us 
about  consulting  the  stars,”  said  Clar- 
ence. 

“ I wished  to  show  you,”  replied 
Emma,,  “that  when  we  are  in  one 
place,  on  the  ocean,  the  apparent  posi- 
tion of  distant  objects,  as  the  heavenly 


EAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  99 

bodies,  is  diiferent  from  the  position 
they  seem  to  occupy  when  we  are  in 
another  place.  And  studying  these 
differences  in  the  apparent  j)ositions 
of  the  sun,  moon  and  stars  when 
viewed  from  the  point  we  occupy  on 
this  our  globe,  is  one  thing  that  helps 
seamen  to  know  what  place  they  are 
in.” 

“Now,”  said  Frank,  “I  under- 
stand a little  about  it.” 

“ Yes,”  answered  his  mother,  “ it  is 
a little  indeed.  I hope  some  day  you 
will  know  much  more  about  it.” 

“ I hope  so,  too,”  said  Frank. 

“We  see  now,”  said  Clarence, 
“ what  good  the  sun,  moon  and  stars 
do,  which  the  fog  may  prevent  their 
doing.  W e would  like  to  know  Avhat 
those  things  are  which  the  fog  allows 
to  harm  shij)s.” 


100 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ Siioals  and  submarine  rocks,  ice- 
bergs and  other  ships.  If  a ship-mas- 
ter does  not  know  where  he  is  going, 

he  may  run  upon  islands,  shoals  or 
hidden  rocks.” 

“But  suppose,”  asked  Clarence, 
“you  do  know  just  where  you  are, 
how  do  you  know  just  where  the 
shoals  and  rocks  and  islands  are  ?” 

“ These  are  all  laid  down  upon  maps 
or  charts  by  persons  who  have  pre- 
viously passed  near  them,  and  taken 
their  latitude  and  longitude.  These 
charts  the  mariner  constantly  studies, 

and  guides  his  course  accordino-  to 
them.” 

“But  icebergs  and  ships,  what  will 
they  do  to  you  ?”  asked  Frank. 

“ Why  hit  you,  and  smash  you  into 
ten  thousand  pieces,”  answered  Clar- 
ence. “ Excuse  me,  mother.” 


KAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  101 

“ But,”  said  Frank,  “ is  not  the 
ocean  wide  enough  for  all  the  ships 
in  the  world,  and  all  the  icebergs, 
too?” 

“ But  suppose,”  said  Clarence,  “ you 
don’t  see  where  they  are,  and  so  you 
run  straight  into  them.” 

“ Yes,  yes,”  said  Frank.  “ I should 
think  a fog  was  rather  dangerous.  It 
tears  up  your  track,  and  then  it  blind- 
folds you.  The  quicker  you  let  otf 
steam,  the  better.” 

“ That  might  do  for  a locomotive,” 
suggested  Emma.  “ But  the  steam, 
when  you  are  in  a sailing  ship,  is  not 
at  your  command,  the  wind  is  your 
steam  then.  You  can’t  control  the 
wind.” 

“ Take  in  sail,  then,”  said  Clarence. 

‘•The  wind,”  replied  Emma,  “will 
drive  you  still.  Don’t  you  remember 


102 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


when  Paul  was  in  the  ship  in  the 
tempest,  it  is  said  they  strake  sail, 
and  so  were  driven?” 

“ It  is  a'  bad  case,”  said  Clarence. 
“ Were  you  ever  in  such  a case  as 
that,  mother?” 

“ JSTot  in  the  voyage  to  India.  In 
our  homeward  voyage,  between  Eng- 
land and  America,  we  had  a gale  and 
a fog  at  the  same  time,  which  is  rather 
unusual.  But  so  it  was  with  us.  We 
were  in  a region,  too,  where  icebergs 
abound.  Indeed  the  captain  had 
spoken  a ship  which  told  us -of  ice- 
bergs ahead,  and  Avhen  the  fog  dis- 
persed, we  saw  icebergs  about  us.” 

“ Terrible !”  exclaimed  Clarence  and 
Emma. 

“ I suppose  we  Avere  never  in  more 
perilous  circumstances.” 


KAm,  GALES,  AND  FOGS.  103 

“ Mother,  do  tell  me  how  you  felt,” 
said  Alice. 

“ I can  easily  tell  you  ; at  least  my 
recollection  of  the  impressions  of  the 
time  is  very  distinct.  The  fog  was 
dense,  and  the  gale  severe.  The  cap- 
tain, who  had  traversed  the  sea  many 
years  with  great  success,  and  who  was 
naturally  genial  and  pleasant,  grew  tac- 
iturn, and,  except  when  something  of 
consequence  required  his  attention, 
noticed  his  passengers  very  slightly. 

“ The  passengers  were  all  intensely 
serious,  and  profoundly  quiet.  The 
gayer  ones,  who  in  common  storms  as- 
sumed an  air  of  unusual  levity,  were 
pale  and  restless.  My  mind,  though 
in  a good  degree  assured  of  an  inte- 
rest in  Christ,  and  of  eternal  safety 
through  him,  yet  was  extremely  ac- 
tive in  bringing  up  most  vividly  my 


104 


OUT  AT  SEA, 


possible  condition  in  case  of  self-de- 
ception, if  I should,  in  a few  minutes, 
be  humed  into  eternity.  I could  not, 
as  usual  m such  circumstances,  obtain 
entu^e  relief  and  assured  peace,  by  ap- 
plying in  prayer  to  the  Saviour  of  sin- 
ners. Suddenly  it  occurred  to  me, 
why  think  so  much  about  yourself,  who 
possibly  may  be  saved,  when  here  are 
many  m the  ship  with  you,  who  have 
not  the  slightest  hope  of  salvation,  to 
whom  the  plunge  into  eternity  must 
realize  all  that  your  imagination  de- 
picts. 

I sought  immediately,  and  found 
an  opportunity  to  speak  with  one, 
who,  I knew,  professed  no  interest  in 
Christ,  and  begged  her  to  apply  to 
Him  at  once.  Occupied  in  conversing 
thus  with  any  one  who  I thought 
might  listen  in  such  an  hour,  no 


RAIN,  GALES,  AND  FOGS. 


105 


thought  for  my  own  safety,  nor  doubt 
concerning  it,  came  again  to  my  mind. 
I could  approach  the  Saviour  with 
confidence  and  hope  in  regard  to  my 
shipmates  and  in  regard  to  the  happy 
result  of  the  voyage.  I look  back  on 
the  lessons  of  those  earnest,  honest 
hours,  and  count  them  a life-trea- 
sure.” 

The  afternoon  was  now  far  ad- 
vanced, and  the  little'  party  walked 
quietly  and  thoughtfully  towards 
home. 


IV. 

STAllS  IJV  SKY  AJXD  SJEA. 

The  api^ointed  hour  of  the  follow- 
ing  clay  found  them  all  seated  in  their 
l^leasant  parlor.  They  had  prej^ared 
to  go  to  their  favorite  resort,  but  the 
prospect  of  a thunder  shower,  com- 
pelled them  to  stay  at  home. 

Ihe  talk  is  the  chief  thing  after 
all,  said  Clarence,  “ and  we  need  not 
give  that  up,  need  we,  mother?” 
“Certainly  not.  Bring  your  work, 
and  take  your  chairs.” 

“Clarence,”  said  Emma,  “you  will 
have  to  moisten  'your  grass,  if  you 

wish  to  weave  more  baskets.  Run  to 
106 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


107 


the  kitchen,  and  bring  a basin  of 
water  large  enough  to  lay  them  out 
straight  in  it.” 

“ If  we  were  only  by  the  brook, 
now,”  Clarence  answered,  “ I should 
not  have  to  bring  a basin  of  water.” 

“Yes,”  said  Alice,  “ and  the  brook 
Avoiild  carry  them  all  olF  down  stream, 
and  you  would  have  far  enough  to  run 
for  them.” 

“ Every  advantage,”  said  Frank, 
“has  its  disadvantage,  sister.” 

“ And  every  disadvantage  has  its 
advantage,  perhaps,”  said  Emma. 

Clarence  brought  the  water. 

“ Be  very  careful  in  opening  the 
handkerchief,  that  you  do  not  break 
the- grass,  now  that  it  is  dry,”  said 
Emma. 

The  arrangements  for  braiding  be- 
ing completed,  and  each  member  of 


108 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


the  little  circle  having  his  and  her  work 
in  ojieration,  Mrs.  Raymond  said, 

“ All  that  I have  told  you,  so  far, 
about  the  sea,  has  been  of  scenes  of 
the  day.  I must  tell  you  something 
about  the  night.” 

I should  think  night  at  sea  would 
be  very  dreary,”  said  Emma. 

“ One  has  naturally  a sense  of  in- 
security and  loneliness,  Avhen  night 
comes,  even  on  shore.  I should  sup- 
pose there  would  be  much  more  of 
this  feeling  at  sea.  ^Vhen  I imagine 
night  on  the  ocean,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I should  really  shudder  to  look 
at  the  unbroken  arch  of  heaven  in  its 
vast  hollowness,  or  the  wide,  empty 
circle  of  the  sea.  Indeed,  mother,  I 
dread  to  have  you  tell  about  it,  even.” 
“I  am  sorry,  my  dear,  you  have 
such  gloomy  impressions.  I think  I 


STARS  IX  SKY  AND  SEA. 


109 


could  soon  dispel  them,  if  I could 
show  you  such  nigjht  scenes  as  I have 
witnessed  in  some  parts  of  the  ocean.” 
“ If  you  can  tell  me  of  anything 
about  it  that  is  bright  or  cheerful,  I 
shall  be  glad.” 

“ I think  I have  known  you  find 
some  pleasure  in  studying  the  geogra- 
phy of  the  heavens  ?” 

“Indeed,  yes,  mother,  I do  cer- 
tainly. I love  to  look  at  the  stars 
from  my  window,  and  learn  the  names 
of  the  constellations.  I love  to  watch 
each  evening,  and  see  how  far  this 
planet  or  that  has  progressed  in  its 
path  among  the  fixed  stars,  and  to 
find  how  far  we  have  moved  in  the 
Zodiac,  by  seeing  how  far  to  the  West 
the  stars  seem  to  have  traveled  since 
the  night  before  at  the  same  hour.” 

“ I have  not  studied  the  stars,”  said 
10 


110 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


Alice,  “ but  I like  to  see  them.  I could 
sit  for  half  an  hour,  and  just  feast  my 
eyes  upon  them,  if  I did  not  know  any- 
thing about  them,  or  think  anything 
about  them,  only  to  look  at  them.  It 
seems  to  rest  my  eyes.  If  I have  a head- 
ache, it  soothes  it.  It  rests  mv  mind. 
If  anything  has  been  troubling  me,  it 
makes  me  torget  it.  Only  last  night, 
when  you  and  Emma  were  awav, 
mother,  there  was  no  moon,  and  it 
was  late.  I did  not  wish  to  light  up 
my  room  for  fear  of  mosquitoes,  so  I 
could  do  nothing  to  entertain  m^^self. 
I was  lonely  and  rather  gloomy,  so  I 
went  and  sat  down  by  my  window  to 
wait  till  you  came  home.  As  I threw 
open  my  shutters,  the  bright  stars 
shone  as  kindly  and  cheering  as  ever. 

I had  not  thought  of  them  for  a good 
while,  and  it  seemed  like  a kind  of 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SL’A. 


Ill 


surprise  that  they  Avere  there.  I could 
not  help  thinking-,  mother,  that  they 
AA'ere  like  the  promises  in  the  Bible. 
We  forget  all  about  them,  sometimes, 
and  don’t  seem  to  care  Avh ether  there 
are  any.  But  by-and-bye,  Avhen  per- 
haps we  are  in  some  trouble,  Ave  open 
the  Bible,  and  there  they  are,  just  as 
true,  and  just  as  comforting  as  ever.” 

“ I hojie,  sister,”  said  Frank,  “ you 
don’t  let  your  Bible  lie  unopened  till 
trouble  comes.” 

“No,  Frank,”  replied  his  mother,. 
“ but  as  Ave  Avalk  in  the  starlight 
sometimes,  Avithout  much  noticing  the 
stars,  so  Ave  sometimes  read  the  Bible 
AAuthout  seeing  very  much  of  the  value 
of  the  promises.” 

“ I don’t  think  Ave  are  getting  ahead 
in  our  voyage,”  said  Clarence,  after  a 
pause. 


112 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ I was  going  to  say  that  the  ocean 
is  about  the  best  place  to  study  the 
stars.  Beside  that  a ship  is  a very 
good  observatory,  life  at  sea  puts  you 
in  a state  of  mind  to  be  interested  in 
them.  The  Avant  of  necessary  and 
pressing  daily  occupation,  and  the 
want  of  extended  society  and  public 
incident,  in  short,  the  AA^ant  of  Avork, 
and  the  Avant  of  ncAvs  induces  a con- 
templative state  of  mind,  Avhich  in- 
clines you  more  to  vieAv  the  stars  and 
think  about  them. 

“ Men  at  sea  often  become  very 
familiar  Avith  the  stars,  even  AAuthout 
books  or  teachers,  so  that  they  have 
them  mapped  out  in  the  mind’s  eye,  and 
distinguish  them  readily,  even  though 
they  may  not  have  learned  their 
names.  Just  as  one  brought  up  in  a 
certain  portion  of  a city,  or  tract  of 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SKA. 


113 


country,  and  traveling  over  the  same 
streets  and  roads  day  after  day,  has 
the  whole  in  his  memory,  and  would 
not  lose  his  way,  or  mistake  one  house 
for  another,  though  the  streets  might 
have  no  sign-boards,  or  he  might 
never  have  heard  the  name  of  a single 
resident.” 

“ The  stars  seem  to  me  like  nothing- 
hut  confusion,”  said  Clarence.  “ I 
could  never  tell,  one  night,  whether  1 
had  ever  looked  at  the  same  stars  be- 
fore, or  whether  they  were  all  new 
ones.  I could  not  tell  whether  they 
kept  the  same  places  in  the  sky,  or 
whether  they  ivere  jumbled  together 
every  day,  and  just  tossed  up  there, 
and  sprinkled  over  the  sky  again 
every  night.” 

“ If  you  looked  at  them  a good  deal, 
and  became  familiar  with  them,  you 
10  * 


114 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


would  experience  something  of  the 
same  difference  of  feelino-  on  seeinsf 
them,  that  you  do  in  falling  in  with  a 
group  of  friends,  instead  of  being 
thrown  in  company  with  a roomful  of 
strangers.” 

“ Indeed,  mother,”  said  Clarence, 
“ I can  hardly  think  of  that,  for  the 
one  is  about  the  awkwardest  feeling  in 
the  world,  and  the  other  the  pleasant- 
est feeling  imaginable.” 

“ I said  ‘ something  ’ of  the  same 
feeling,  my  dear  Clarence.  You 
know  something  about  some  of  the 
stars,  I am  sure;  those  large  ones 
that  I told  you  once  were  m the  back 
of  the  Great  Bear.” 

“Oh!  yes,”  exclaimed  Clarence,  “I 
am  always  ghul  to  get  a sight  of  those. 
I know  them  because  they  are  larcer 
than  most  of  the  stars,  and  because 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


115 


they  form  a shape  something  like  a 
dipper,  and  when  I am  walking  in  a 
dark  night,  I always  look  round  for 
them,  because  they  are  the  only  ones 
I do  know,  and  I fancy  it  is  not  quite 
so  lonely  when  I see  them.” 

“ But  the  form  of  a dipper  is  not 
easier  to  remember  than  other  forms, 
nor  any  pleasanter  to  see.  All  the 
stars  are  arranged  in  some  forms,  and 
you  could  after  a while  remember 
them  just  as  w^ell  as  that;  and  if  it 
makes  you  feel  glad,  and  less  lonely 
when  you  get  a sight  of  one  group 
that  you  know,  do  you  not  think  it 
would  make  you  feel  gladder,  and  less 
lonely  still,  if  you  saw  on  every  side 
of  you  groups  that  you  knew  ?” 

“ But  how  shall  I get  to  know  them 
asked  Clarence. 

‘ You  may  take  a globe  and  lamp, 


116 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


and  having  secured  the  service  of  some 
friend  to  adjust  the  globe  to  your  lati- 
tude, and  to  turn  toward  you  the  part 
of  it,  which  corresponds  to  the  quar- 
tei  of  the  heavens,  towards  which  your 
window  looks,  you  may  look  first  to- 
Avards  the  sky,  and  fix  }mur  eye  upon 
some  distinct  group  of  larger  stars, 
and  then  turn  to  your  globe,  and  find 
it  there,  and  ascertain  to  Avhat  constel- 
lation it  belongs,  and  Avhat  other  stars 
are  in  the  same  constellation,  and  see 
if  any  of  them  have  names,  and  if  so, 
leain  them,  dhen  notice  the  marks 
on  the  globe  shoAving  Avhich  star  is 
number  one,  number  tAvo,  number 
thiee,  etc.,  of  that  constellation,  or, 
Avhich  is  the  same  thing,  Avhich  is  Al- 
pha, Beta,  Gamma,  etc.,  look  them  out 
in  the  sky  again  and  again,  till  you 
can  turn  to  them  in  their  order  and 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


117 


number  them.  They  are  numbered 
according  to  their  size. 

“ Try  only  one  constellation  in  an 
evening,  and  review  it  the  next  fair 
evening.  This  is  one  method.  If 
you  were  without  a globe,  maps  of  the 
heavens  would  answer  the  same  pur- 
pose. But  as  in  very  warm  weather 
you  do  not  care  to  keep  a light  burn- 
ing much  of  the  evening,  and  as  you 
cannot  always  have  a friend  at  hand 
to  assist  you,  I would  recommend  a 
different  method.” 

“ Seat  yourself  in  your  sister  Alice’s 
window,  which  will  give  you  a view 
of  your  friend  the  dipper,  and  study 
that  a little.  Notice  everything  about 
it  that  you  can  see  or  think  of.  How 
many  stars  has  it,  how  do  tliey  stand 
related  to  each  other,  how  many  form 
what  looks  like  the  handle?  Is  it  a 


118 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


straight  handle,  or  has  it  a bend  in  it, 
does  the  end  bend  downward  toward 
the  lower  part  of  the  dipper,  or  up- 
ward toward  the  upper  part  of  it,  how 
many  form  the  bottom  of  the  dipper, 
how  many  make  the  side  outward,  or 
away  from  the  handle,  how  many  the 
side  toward  the  handle,  and  thus  ob- 
serve everything  you  can  about  the 
dipper  itself.  Then  look  for  stars 
about  the  dipper.  Do  you  see  some 
small  ones  near  the  end  of  the  handle? 

hat  geometrical  form  can  5’'ou  fancy 
they  have,  or  Avhat  letter,  or  Avhat 
other  object  do  they  resemble,  a chair, 
or  a table,  or  a ho  use- roof?  Is  there 
any  little  star  Avithin  the  cup  of  the 
dipper,  or  near  the  opening  at  the  top? 
Are  there  any  stars  that  lie  in  a di- 
rection nearly  parallel  Avith  the  direc- 
tion of  the  dipper,  at  a little  distance 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


119 


from  it  on  either  or  both  sides,  and 
hoAV  many?  Are  there  any  that  lie 
off  a little  way  from  the  outer  side  of 
the  cup  of  the  dipper,  forming  the 
shape,  say  of  a boat  or  a basket?  Sit 
and  look  it  over  thus  inquisitively, 
and  talk  it  over  to  yourself  mentally, 
or  in  a whisper,  or  aloud.  See  all  you 
can  see  about  it,  and  ask  all  you  can 
ask  about  it. 

“ The  next  night  take  your  seat 
again,  and  try  if  you  can  recal  all  the 
particulars  you  noticed  the  night  be- 
fore. Afterward,  get  your  sister  Alice 
or  Emma,  (Frank  will  be  asleep  too 
soon)  to  go  out  with  you,  or  if  they 
are  too  busy,  see  if  you  can  persuade 
your  mother  to  go  with  you,  and  sit 
under  your  tuition  for  a while,  as  you 
point  out  to  her  all  the  particulars  you 
have  noticed  in  these  bright,  twink- 


/ 


120  OUT  AT  SEA, 

ling  stars  and  constellations,  and  see 
if  she  confirms  your  observations.  I 
think  you  would  find  this  joleasant. 

“ Some  time  there  will  come  another 
eveniim'  when  we  will  feel  like  sittino; 
down  quietly,  and  looking  at  the  stars. 
Then  let  your  eye  stray  out  in  some 
direction  further  away  from  the  dip- 
per. See  what  large  star  lies  in  one 
direction  from  it,  or  another,  and  what 
smaller  stars  appear  about  that,  and 
study  their  bearings  and  relations. 
You  would  find  before  long  that  the 
portion  of  the  heavens  you  had  gone 
over  in  this  way,  was  all  jotted  down 
in  your  mind,  so  that  you  could  shut 
vour  eves,  and  look  at  it*  even  in  the 
day-time.  You  might  give  a name  of 
your  own  choosing,  if  you  wished,  to 
each  of  the  largest  stars,  and  call  them 
by  it  till  you  could  get  an  opportunity 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


121 


to  learn  the  names  given  to  them  by 
astronomers.” 

“ Did  you  try  any  such  method, 
when  you  were  at  sea,  mother?”  asked 
Frank. 

“No,  my  dear.  But  without  it  the 
sky>at  night  was  a delightful  object. 
What  I had  chiefly  in  mind  though, 
in  speaking  of  night  scenes  at  sea,  was 
some  appearances  of  the  water.” 

“ I don’t  understand,  mother,”  said 
Frank,  “ how  you  can  see  much  of  the 
water  at  night,  unless  it  be  when  the 
moon  shines.  Then,  indeed,  I should 
think  it  might  look  very  pretty.” 

“ That  is  not  what  I lyas  thinking 
of,  though  there  are  lovely  moon-light 
scenes  at  sea.  One  I remember  es- 
pecially. It  was  in  a calm.  When 
there  is  no  wind,  there  is  usually, 
what  is  called  a swell.  That  is,  the 
11 


122 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


sea  rises  and  falls  very  slowly  in 
long  low  undulations.  I will  not  ven- 
ture to  state  how  long,  but  am  sure 
they  have  sometimes  looked  to  me  as 
though  it  were  half  a mile,  from  the 
foot  of  the  swell  to  the  top  of  it.  At 
the  time  of  which  I speak,  we  were 
sailing  directly  East.  The  full  moon 
had  risen  an  hour  before,  and  of  course 
lay  just  above  our  prow.  The  surface 
of  the  sea  was  as  unrippled  as  a look- 
ing-glass. Avere  heading  across 

those  long  deep  swells,  and  every  time 
we  came  to  the  bottom  of  one  of  them, 
and  AA^ere  beginning  to  ascend  it,  a 
broad  belt  of  the  Avave  between  us  and 
the  horizon  seemed  covered  AAuth  moon- 
beams, not  in  faint  reflection,  but  every 
part  as  AAdiite  and  as  radiant  as  the 
moon  itself.  It  seemed  like  a path- 
Avay  of  light,  by  Avhich  Ave  Avere  as- 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


123 


cending  to  a heavenly  portal.  We 
stood  at  the  side  of  -the  ship,  leaning 
over  the  bulwarks,  and  looking  toward 
the  prow,  and  every  time  the  ship 
dipped,  the  lovely  vision  was  re- 
newed.” 

“That  must  have  been  beautiful, 
really,”  said  Emma. 

“ Yes,  we  watched  it  while  the  moon 
mounted  higher  and  higher  in  the 
heavens,  till  at  length  the  effect  was 
no  longer  produced.” 

“ But,  mother,  I understood  you 
that  the  most  wonderful  sight  you 
saw,  was  in  the  dark,”  said  Clarence. 

“ That  is  a little  more  than  I said, 
dear.  I implied  that  it  was  not  seen 
by  moonlight.  The  first  time  that  I 
noticed  the  appearance,  no  one  had 
spoken  to  me  of  it,  and  I did  not  like 
to  speak  of  it,  lest  those  around  me 


124 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


should  think  that  my  fancy  illumined 
and  colored  beyond  nature,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  that  the  crest  of  every 
wave  was  luminous  with  a faintly- 
colored  light,  greenish  or  bluish,  I 
could  hardly  say  which,  it  was  so  faint 
and  so  transient.  I amused  myself 
with  the  illusion  for  a while,  and  sup- 
posed the  atmosphere  or  my  fancy 
Avould  probably  never  present  me  with 
it  again.  I had  heard  something  of 
the  phosphorescence  of  the  ocean,  but 
not  having  formed  a distinct  idea  as 
to  how  it  would  present  itself,  I did 
not  connect  this  appearance  with  it. 

“A  few  evenings  after,  your  father 
took  me  on  deck,  and  proposed  to  walk 
forward  to  the  prow  of  the  ship.  This 
was  unusual,  because  that  part  of  the 
ship  was  not  assigned  to  the  passen- 
gers. So  I presumed  there  was  some- 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


125 


thing  to  be  seen.  The  night  was  dark, 
there  was  but  a moderate  breeze.  As 
we  walked  forward,  1 noticed  that  the 
bowsprit  and  ropes  attached  to  it,  were 
lighted  up  with  a pale  light,  and  on 
looking  over  the  prow,  saw  the  sea 
full  of  diamonds  and  pearls  as  it  were, 
mingling  the  sparkling  brilliance  of 
the  one  with  the  moon-like  gleam  of  the 
other,  and  looking  as  though  the  fa- 
bled caves  of  ocean  had  been  emptied 
of  all  their  gems. 

“The  supply  was  inexhaustible  as 
magic,  and  the  longer  we  looked,  as 
the  night  dee25ened,  the  richer  was  the 
disiilay.  We  walked  along  the  side 
of  the  ship,  and  looked  over  the  bul- 
warks ; the  Avater  there  jiresentcd  the 
same  aiipearance : we  jiassed  to  the 
stern,  and  it  was  the  same  there.  For 

several  nights  we  enjoyed  fine  exhibi- 
11  * 


126 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


tions,  and  one  day  some  one  bethought 
himself  of  dipping  up  a pail  of  sea- 
water, and  taking  it  into  a darkened 
apartment.  On  disturbing  the  water 
with  a stick,  light  was  emitted  from 
numerous  little  points,  which  floated 
in  it,  and  on  examining,  it  appeared 
that  there  were  small  particles  of  a 
transparent,  jelly-like  substance,  each 
of  which  had  in  its  centre  a small 
dark  speck. 

“One  dark  night  we  were  nearly  be- 
calmed, and  as  our  movement  dis- 
turbed the  water  but  little,  the  exhi- 
bition was  inferior  to  what  we  had 

seen  before.  We  were  about  with- 

0 

drawing  to  the  cabin,  when  along  the 
Western  horizon  there  appeared  a 
multitude  of  lights,  as  though  we  were 
approaching  a city  just  at  the  hour  of 
a grand  illumination.  As  we  doubted 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


127 


whether  to  amuse  ourselves  with  trac- 
ing the  resemblance  between  what  we 
saw,  and  the  spires  and  windows  and 
illuminated  peaks  and  light-houses  of 
some  jubilant  harbor;  or  whether  to 
yield  to  the  impression  that  we  had 
suddenly  made  some  unknown  port, 
and  must  get  ready  to  disembark,  it 
seemed  that  ships  of  tire  were  making 
out  from  the  harbor  to  overhaul  us. 

“ Soon  these  multiplied  into  a fleet 
of  fire-ships,  rapidly  bearing  down 
upon  us ; and,  as  the  western  gale 
rushed  on  us,  and  swept  by,  the  whole 
ocean  was  covered  with  them.  We 
now  understood  it  all.  The  wind, 
which  broke  suddenly  on  the  sea  in 
the  West,  had  powerfully  agitated 
the  waters  in  that  quarter,  rousing  the 
phosphorescent  animalcules  to  show 
their  most  vivid  light.  As  wave 


128 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


dashed  against  wave,  the  water  was 
broken  into  spray,  and  thrown  up- 
wards, assuming  those  forms  which, 
in  the  distance,  we  compared  to  lighted 
towers  and  pinnacles,  and,  as  they 
came  nearer,  to  masts  and  sails. 

“ It  was  a splendid  pageant.  The 
first  effect  was  soon  over,  but  through 
the  night,  there  seemed  to  be  bonfires 
all  over  the  sea.” 

“ Shall  I see  it,  if  I go  to  sea,  mo- 
ther?” asked  Clarence. 

“ I cannot  promise  }mu  that  my  dear, 
for  I do  not  know  that  anybody  before 
or  since,  ever  saw  just  the  same  ap- 
pearance that  I did.  But  if  you 
should  go  round  the  world,  I suppose 
you  could  not  fail  to  see  a good  deal 
of  similar  display.” 

“ You  have  told  us,  mother,  of  birds 
and  fishes,  and  waves  and  icebergs, 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


129 


and  illuminations,  and  fogs  and  storms, 
but  you  have  told  us  nothing  of 
calms,”  said  Alice. 

“ How  can  I tell  you  about  a calm  ? 
Is  there  anything  to  it  to  tell  ? It  is 
a most  negative  condition.  One  can 
better  tell  what  there  is  not  in  it,  than 
what  there  is,  perhaps.  First,  there  is 
no  wind,  second,  there  is  no  wave, 
third,  there  is  no  cloud,  fourth,  there 
is  no  motion,  fifth,  there  is  no  sound, 
sixth,  there  is  no  jirogress,  seventh, 
there  is  no  incident,  eighth,  there  is 
no  satisfaction.  The  ship  lies  listless 
on  the  middle  of  a sea  of  glass,  the 
smooth  round  horizon  seems  removed 
to  an  immeasurable  distance,  the  sails 
hang  idle,  no  ropes  are  pulled,  no  or- 
ders are  shouted,  no  tramp  of  men 
hurrying  to  obey  is  heard,  there  is  no 
rush  of  waters,  no  jar  of  timbers. 


130 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


You  hush  your  voice,  it  disturbs  such 
an  immense  stillness.  You  incline 
not  to  move,  it  seems  incongruous. 
You  are  sure  your  very  thoughts  are 
heard.  You  are  weary,  weary.  You 
wish  to  fly,  you  are  bound  to  that  one 
spot.  Day  and  night  pass,  and  day 
and  night  again,  but  yet  your  ship 
moves  not.  Such  is  a calm  at  sea.” 

When  the  conversation  had  pro- 
ceeded thus  far,  Mrs.  Ra^unond  re- 
minded her  young  auditors  that  it 
was  Saturday  afternoon,  and  that  they 
had  some  duties  at  home  which  re- 
quired their  attention. 

“ Mother,”  said  Emma,  “ shall  we 
have  to  omit  our  conversation,  to-mor- 
row ?” 

“Would  it  not  be  right,”  asked 
Frank,  “ to  talk  about  a missionary 
voyage  on  Sunday  ?” 


STARS  IN  SKY  AND  SEA. 


131 


“ That  will  depend,  jierliaps,  on 
how  Ave  talk  about  it.  There  are  some 
things  on  board  ship  that  aa"o  may 
talk  about  on  Sunday,  I am  sure,” 
said  Clarence,  “ there  are  Sundays  on 
board  ship,  that’s  one  thing,  and  there 
are  Bibles  and  Hymn-books,  and 
meetings.” 

“And  there  are  Avorks  of  God  in 
sea  and  sky,  and  his  care  of  us,”  said 
Alice. 

“We  shall  meet  as  usual  in  the 
nursery  to-morrow  after  Sunday- 
school,  and  Ave  Avill  see  then  Avhat  it  is 
best  to  talk  about.” 


V. 

SABBATIX  AT  SEA. 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  when  the 
public  services  of  the  day  were  over, 
Alice  and  Clarence  came  to  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond, with  a request  that,  as  the  day 
was  Avarm  and  fine,  they  might  take 
some  chairs  out  upon  the  piazza,  and 
prejAaie  to  hold  the  projAosed  conver- 
sation there.  To  this  Mrs.  Raymond 
cheerfully  assented. 

When  they  were  seated,  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond said,  “ It  seems  very  suitable  on 
this  day,  to  review  the  voyage  we 
have  talked  so  much  about,  for  the 
t^urpose  of  finding  what  religious  les- . 

132 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


133 


sons  it  may  yield.  I would  like  to  have 
each  of  you  tell  me  what  you  think 
of  in  sea  life,  which  is  suited  to  turn 
the  mind  toward  God.” 

A minute  or  two  was  allowed  for 
reflection,  and  as  no  one  seemed  in 
haste  to  break  the  silence,  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond said, 

“ You  may  speak  first,  Emma.” 

“ I confess,  ma,  I am  thinking  that 
the  sense  of  danger  would  influence 
me  most  of  anything.  I should  feel 
all  the  time  I was  on  board  shijT,  that 
there  was  but  a plank  beween  me  and 
eternity.” 

“ There  is  far  less  than  that  be- 
tween us  and  eternity  at  all  times,  my 
child.  A cob-web  would  more  fitly 
represent  our  hold  on  life,  than  an 
oak  plank.” 

“ But  we  are  not,”  said  Emma,  “ al- 
12 


134 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


ways  conscious  of  it  on  land.  It 
seems  to  me  that  on  the  sea,  I should 
never  forget  it  for  an  hour.” 

“ It  is  well,  dear,  if  a sense  of  inse- 
curity keep  vividly  before  our  minds 
our  dependence  on  God.  ‘In  Him  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  beine;.’ 
Let  us  hear  what  occurs  to  Alice  as 
the  circumstance  in  sea-life  most  fitted 
to  turn  our  thoughts  towards  our 
Father  in  heaven.” 

“ I was  thinking,  mother,”  said 
Alice,  “that  everything  on  land  seems 
made  for  man,  but  that  at  sea,  the 
birds  and  fishes,  the  water  and  clouds 
seem  all  to  no  purpose  except  for  God. 
Why,  the  ocean  is  broader  in  surface 
than  the  land,  and  miles  in  de}3th. 
Yet  it  is  thronged  with  fish,  and 
through  every  jiart  of  the  wide  air 
above  it,  birds  range.  The  beautiful 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


135 


clouds,  the  brilliant  display  of  phos- 
phorescence seem  all  to  be  lost,  except 
as  they  please  the  eye  of  God.  These 
all  seem  to  say.  We  live  unto  Him.” 

“ But  a small  portion  of  the  Crea- 
tor’s works  are  ever  seen  by  human 
eyes,  but  as  Job  said,  ‘ God  searcheth 
out  all  perfection.  His  eye  seeth 
every  precious  thing,’  ” (Job  xxxviii. 
3,  10),  replied  Mrs.  Baymond. 

“ Clarence,  it  is  your  turn  next.” 

“ Mother,”  said  Clarence,  “ the  lone- 
liness. You  leave  the  world  behind, 
and  sail  away  otf,  where  there  is  no- 
body. For  weeks  you  sail  straight  on 
over  the  trackless  water,  where  no 
man  is,  and  where  it  seems  as  though 
nobody  ever  had  been.  Hay  after  day 
you  go  farther  and  farther  into  soli- 
tude. The  empty  water  is  around 
you,  and  the  vacant  sky  above.  There 


136 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


are  no  streets  thronged  Avith  people, 
no  neighbors’  houses,  no  games  nor 
business  going  on.  I should  think 
you  Avould  feel  as  though  you  had 
quit  the  ivorld  and  gone  off  alone 
Avith  God.” 

In  the  secret  25lace  of  our  OAvn 
hearts,  said  his  mother,  “ AAm  may  at 
any  time  be  alone  Avith  God,  yet  it  is 
true  that  to  many  minds  the  isolation 
of  ship  life  brings  a peculiar  con- 
sciousness of  the  j^resence  of  the  Infi- 
nite One.  Indeed  I tliink  feAv  circum- 
stances are  more  fittea  to  impress  this 
than  to  stand  in  a quiet  night,  alone 
on  a shill’s  deck,  Avhen  even  most  of 
your  shipmates  are  asleej)  and  you 
see  no  signs  of  life  about  you,  Avith 
the  Avide  stretch  of  sea  on  every  hand, 
and  the  Amst  starry  arch  OA^er  head. 

^ ou  seem,  indeed,  of  all  the  universe 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


1ST 


alone  Avith  Grocl.  To  one  who  loves 
God,  it  is  a delightful  impression,  and 
makes  him  long  to  be  ‘ caught  up,’ 
and  be  forever  with  Him.” 

“ Mother,”  said  Frank,  “ I should 
think  a Sabbath  at  sea  would  be  ra- 
ther pleasant.  Hot  a stormy  Sabbath, 
with  rain  and  rough  waves,  but  a quiet 
one,  almost  a calm ; when  the  sun  shone, 
and  the  sails  were  just  filled  with 
Avind,  and  the  air  Avas  mild,  and  the  sea 
smooth.  Then,  I should  like  to  take 
my  Bible,  and  go  up  and  sit  on  the 
deck,  and  look  out  all  the  places  in  it 
that  tell  about  the  sea.  I remember 
one  that  begins,  ‘ They  that  go  doAvn 
to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in 
the  great  Avaters,  these  see  the  Avorks 
of  the  Lord,  and  his  AAmnders  in  the 
deep.’” 

“ Recite  that  Frank.  You  have 
12  » 


138 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


learned  the  whole  passage,  haue  you 
not?” 

“ A few  verses,”  said  Frank, 
iiank  then  repeated  from  the 
twenty-third  to  the  thirty-first  verses 
of  the  107th  Psalm. 

They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships,  that  do  business  in  great  waters  ; 
these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and 
his  wonders  in  the  deep.  For  he 
cornmandeth,  and  raiseth  the  stormy 
wind,  which  lifteth  up  the  waves 
thereof.  They  mount  up  to  the  heaven, 
they  go  down  again  to  the  depths: 
their  soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble. 
They  reel  to  and  fro,  and  stagger  like 
a drunken  man,  and  are  at  their  wit’s 
end.  Then  they  cry  unto  tlie  Lord 
in  their  trouble,  and  he  bringeth  them 
out  of  their  distresses.  lie  maketh 
the  storm  a calm,  so  that  the  waves 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


139 


thereof  are  still.  Then  are  they  glad  be- 
cause they  be  quiet ; so  he  bringeth 
them  unto  their  desired  haven.  Oh  that 
men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his 
goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  Avorks 
to  the  children  of  men.’  ” 

“ Are  you  sure  you  could  remember 
any  other  passages  in  the  Bible  about 
the  sea,  so  that  you  Avould  be  able  to 
turn  to  them  ?” 

“ Oh ! yes,  mother,”  said  Frank, 
“ a number.  In  the  story  of  Jonah 
there  is  mention  of  a storm  at  sea.  In 
the  Gospels  of  Matthew,  Mark  and 
John,  there  are  also  accounts  of  storms 
at  sea.” 

“ Don’t  you  remember,”  asked  Clar- 
ence, “ that  long  account  of  a tempes- 
tuous voyage,  and  a shipwreck  in  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles?” 

“ There  are  manv  allusions  to  the 


140 


OUT  AT  SKA. 


sea  in  the  Bible,  some  of  which  are 
very  interesting,”  said  Emma. 

“ You  may  repeat  some  of  them.” 

“ The  first  allusion,”  said  Emma, 
“ is  in  the  second  verse  of  chap.  1st 
of  Genesis,  in  the  account  of  the  cre- 
ation. ‘ Darkness  was  upon  the  face 
of  the  deep,  and  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters.' 
And  again  in  v.  8.  ^God  said,  Let 
the  waters  under  the  neaven  be  gath- 
ered together  unto  one  place,  and  let  the 
dry  land  appear,  and  it  was  so.  And 
God  called  the  dry  land  earth,  and  the 
gathering  togetlier  of  the  waters  called 
He  seas,  and  God  saw  that  it  was 
good.’  Again  in  v.  20.  ‘ God  said, 

Let  the  waters  bring  forth  abundantly 
the  moving  creature  tliat  hath  life.’ 
There  are  allusions  to  tlie  sea  also,  in 
the  song  of  IMoses  and  Miriam.’  ” 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


141 


“ Can  you  repeat  them  ?” 

“ I will  read  them  if  you  please, 
mother.”  (See  Exod.  xv.  1,  4,  5,  8, 
9,  10,  11,  19,  20,  21.) 

“ ‘ Then  sang  Moses  and  the  children 
of  Israel  this  song  unto  the  Loed, 
and  spake,  saying,  I will  sing  unto 
the  Loed,  for  he  hath  triumphed  glo- 
riously ; the  horse  and  his  rider  hath 
he  thrown  into  the  sea.  Pharaoh’s 
chariots  and  his  host  hath  he  cast  into 
the  sea : his  chosen  captains  also  are 
drowned  in  the  Red  sea.  The  depths 
have  covered  them : they  sank  into 
the  bottom  as  a stone.  And  with  the 
blast  of  thy  nostrils  the  waters  were 
gathered  together,  the  floods  stood  up- 
right as  a heap,  and  the  depths  were 
congealed  in  the  heart  of  the  sea. 
The  enemy  said,  I will  pursue,  I will 
overtake,  I will  divide  the  spoil : my 


142 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


lust  shall  be  satisfied  upon  them  ; I 
will  draw  my  sword,  my  hand  shall 
destroy  them.  Thou  didst  blow  with 
thy  wind,  the  sea  covered  them : they 
sank  as  lead  in  the  mighty  waters. 

ho  is  like  unto  thee,  0 Loed, 
among  the  gods  ? who  is  like  thee,  glo- 
rious in  holiness,  tearful  in  ^^I'uises, 
doing  wonders?  For  the  horse  of 
Pharaoh  went  in  with  his  chariots  and 
with  his  horsemen  into  the  sea,  and 
the  Lord  brought  again  the  waters  of 
the  sea  upon  them : but  the  children 
of  Israel  went  on  dry  land  in  the 
midst  of  the  sea. 

“‘And  Miriam  the  prophetess  took 
a timbrel  in  her  hand;  and  all  the 
women  went  out  after  her,  with  tim- 
brels, and  with  dances.  And  Miriam 
answered  them.  Sing  ^^e  to  the  Lord, 
for  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously ; the 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


143 


horse  and  his  rider  hath  he  thrown 
into  the  sea.’ 

“Job  says,  ‘ God  treadeth  upon  the 
waves  of  the  sea.’  And  again,  ^ He 
weigheth  the  waters  by  measure.’ 
And  Jeremiah  says,  ‘ He  divideth  the 
sea,  when  the  waves  thereof  roar,’  ” 
remarked  Alice. 

“ Recite  the  passage,  if  you  can, 
Clarence,  which  begins,  ‘Who  shut 
up  the  sea  v.uth  doors.’  ” 

“ I cannot  recite  it,  but  I will  read 
it;  it  is  in  Job  xxxviii.  8-11.” 

“ ‘ Or  who  shut  up  the  sea  with 
doors,  when  it  brake  forth,  as  if  it  had 
issued  out  of  the  womb  ? When  I 
made  the  cloud  the  garment  thereof, 
and  thick  darkness  a swaddling  band 
for  it,  and  brake  up  for  it  my  decreed 
place,  and  set  bars  and  doors,  and 
said,  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  bat  no 


144 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


further ; and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves 
be  stayed  ?’ 

“ And  Alice,  Psalm  civ.  24-27. 

“ ‘ 0 Lord,  how  manifold  are  thv 
works ! in  wisdom  hast  thou  made 
them  all : the  earth  is  full  of  thy 
riches ; so  is  this  great  and  wide  sea, 
wherein  are  things  creeping  innumer- 
able, both  small  and  great  beasts. 
There  go  the  ships ; there  is  that  le- 
viathan, whom  thou  hast  made  to  play 
therein.  These  wait  all  upon  thee, 
that  thou  mayest  give  them  their 
meat  in  due  season.’ 

“ And  Prank,  Prov.  viii,  27-30. 

“ ‘ When  he  prepared  the  heavens,  I 
was  there : when  he  set  a compass 
upon  the  face  of  the  depth : when  he 
established  the  clouds  above:  when 
he  strengthened  the  fountains  of  the 
deep : when  he  gave  to  the  sea  his  de- 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


145 


cree,  that  the  waters  should  not  pass 
his  commandment;  when  he  ap- 
pointed the  foundations  of  the  earth  : 
then  I was  by  him  as  one  brought  up 
with  him:  and  I was  daily  his  de- 
light, rejoicing  always  before  him.’” 

“ There  is  a passage  in  Job,”  said 
Emma,  “ which  I think  must  refer  to 
some  of  the  phosphorescent  exhibi- 
tions of  which  you  have  spoken.  They 
are  in  the  account  of  the  Leviathan, 
Jobxli.  18.  ‘By  his  neesings  a light 
doth  shine,  and  his  eyelids  are  like 
the  eyelids  of  the  morning.  Out  of 
his  mouth  go  burning  lamps,  and 
sparks  of  tire  leap  out.  His  breath 
kindleth  coals,  and  a flame  goeth  out 
of  his  mouth.  He  maketh  a path  to 
shine  after  him.  One  would  think 
the  deep  to  be  hoary.’  I should  think 
it  was  the  movements  of  Leviathan  in 


13 


146 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


the  water,  disturbing  the  animalcules, 
that  caused  the  dis])lay  here  sj)oken 
of.’  ” 

“When-  Job  asks,”  said  Alice, 
‘ Where  shall  wisdom  be  found,  and 
where  is  the  j^lace  of  understanding?’ 
“ the  reply  is,  ‘ The  depth  saith,  it  is 
not  in  me,  and  the  sea  saith,  it  is  not 
with  me.’  ” 

“ And  in  the  46th  Psalm  there  is 
another  reference  to  the  sea,”  added 
Frank.  “David  says,  ‘God  is  .our 
refuge  and  strength,  a very  present 
help  in  trouble.  Therefore  will  not 
we  fear,  though  the  earth  be  re- 
moved, and  though  the  mountains 
be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the 
sea;  though  the  waters  thereof  roar 
and  be  troubled,  though  the  moun- 
tains shake  with  the  swellings  thereof. 
Selah.’  ” 


SABBATH  AX  SEA. 


147 


“ In  chiding  the  Jews  for  their  re- 
bellion and  idolatry,”  said  Emma, 
“ God  says,  (Jer.  v.  22,)  ‘ Fear  ye  not 
me?  saith  the  Lord.  Will  ye  not  trem- 
ble at  my  presence,  which  have  placed 
the  sand  for  a perpetual  decree  that  it 
cannot  pass  it : and  though  the  waves 
thereof  toss  themselves,  yet  cannot 
they  prevail ; though  they  roar,  yet 
can  they  not  pass  over  it?’  ” 

“ In  the  Revelation  made  by  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  the  Apostle 
John,”  said  Alice,  “ he  was  shown 
that  at  the  Judgment,  the  sea  would 
give  up  the  dead  that  are  therein. 
Again,  it  is  represented  that  an  angel 
shall  stand  with  one  foot  upon  the 
land,  and  one  upon  the  sea,  and  swear 
by  Him  that  liveth  for  ever  and  ever, 
that  there  should  be  time  no  longer. 


148 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


Again,  a period  is  spoken  of,  when 
there  shall  be  no  more  sea.” 

“ I should  think,”  said  Clarence, 
“ that  aboard  ship  would  be  a good 
place  to  live  as  a Christian.” 

“ Why,  my  son  ?” 

“ Because  there  seems  to  be  nothing 

O 

to  tempt  you ; the  world  is  left  be- 
hind. Then  there  are  so  many  things 
to  remind  you  of  God.” 

“We  carry  the  world  in  our  hearts 
wherever  we  go,  and  shall  never  find 
a spot  on  this  round  world,  where 
temptation  cannot  get  access  to  us. 
I think  if  you  will  consider,  you  will 
find  full  as  many  helps  on  land,  as  on 
sea,  to  a Christian  life.” 

“ But  not  so  much  leisure  to  attend 
to  it,  mother,”  said  Clarence. 

“ Both  on  land  and  sea  people  are 
variously  situated.  Many  of  those 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


149 


who  go  to  sea,  are  very  busy  on  ship- 
board, and  those  who  have  most  lei- 
sure, either  on  sea  or  land,  are  not  al- 
ways those  who  improve  it  best.” 
“Are  seamen,”  asked  Frank,  “gen- 
erally very  religious,  mother?” 

“ A very  different  character  has 
often  been  ascribed  to  them.  I think 
however,  that  sailors  have  not  been  as 
well  thought  of  as  they  deserve. 
Perhaps  prejudice  has  been  awakened 
by  the  fact  that  when  sailors  are  on 
land,  they  are  out  of  their  element,  as 
we  say,  and  live  more  irregularly  than 
they  do  in  their  ocean  homes.  Be- 
sides, after  an  imprisonment  on  board 
ship,  they  feel  on  being  set  at  liberty 
in  a harbor,  with  their  wages  just 
slipped  into  their  hands,  that  then  is 
the  time  to  spend  their  money  and 
enjoy  themselves.  It  is  however  ad- 
13  *■ 


160 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


mitted  that  courage,  humaneness, 
frankness  and  generosity  are  marked 
traits  in  sailors  universally.  Cer- 
tainly we  have  every  reason  to  speak 
favorably  of  them.  Our  kind  cap- 
tain Avas  most  considerate  of  our  wel- 
fare, intelligent  and  courteous ; our 
officers  Avere  ciAul  and  kind,  the  sail- 
ors, as  far  as  we  saAv,  Avere  peaceable 
and  orderly.” 

“ I do  not  see  hoAV  you  could  hold 
religious  services  on  board  ship, 
mamma,  everything  is  knocking 
about  so,”  said  Frank. 

“ Things  are  fastened,  dear,  so  that 
in  ordinary  Aveather  they  do  not 
knock  about.  We  were  favored  Avith 
pleasant  Sundays  all  the  early  part 
of  our  voyage.  The  first  Sabbath,  all 
of  our  company  Avere  too  sea-sick  to 
hold  a service.  The  second  Sabbath, 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


151 


however,  all  things  were  favorable. 
We  had  recovered  from  sea-sickness. 
The  Aveather  Avas  pleasant.  The 
captain  cheerfully  acceded  to  the 
proposal  for  service,  and  himself  in- 
vited the  sailors  to  attend.  At  first 
they  declined,  but  afterAvard,  on  per- 
suasion ten  of  them  came,  and  sat 
down  Avith  us.  A feAV  chairs  and 
benches  Avere  placed  for  some  of  our 
number,  but  others,  as  Avell  as  the 
sailors  sat  on  coiled  ropes,  casks  and 
such  fixtures  as  Avere  available.  The 
capstan  serAmd  as  a table,  and  a plat- 
form Avas  dispensed  Avith.  We  sought 
the  Lord  in  prayer,  and  sang  his 
praise.  A sermon  was  preached  by 
one  of  the  missionaries.  These  ser- 
vices Avere  continued  on  the  succeed- 
ing Sabbaths,  AA'heneA^er  the  AA^eather 
permitted.  A Bible  class  Avas  also 


152 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


held  weekly  with  some  of  the  sailors, 
which  they  attended  with  interest. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  voyage,  as  I 
have  mentioned,  we  had  three  weeks 
of  successive  gales,  with  some  really 
appalling  storms.  At  these  times  we 
seemed  brought  face  to  face  with 
death,  and  felt  that  we,  and  all  on 
board  were  on  the  very  verge  of  eter- 
nity. Besides,  in  one  storm,  a sailor 
fell  into  the  sea  and  narrowly  escaped 
with  his  life.  It  made  us  pray  more 
earnestly.  Soon  after  this,  as  your 
father  was  walking  upon  deck  one 
evening,  a sailor  accosted  him,  saying, 
‘ I wish  you  Avould  talk  to  me  about 
the  salvation  of  my  soul.  I feel  very 
much  distressed.  Your  remarks  last 
evening  about  the  Prodigal  Son  af- 
fected me,  and  I feel  that  I am  a prod- 
igal.’ Your  father  said,  “ Perhaps  the 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


15S 


Lord  sent  us  on  board  of  this  ship  on 
purpose  that  you  might  have  an  op- 
portunity of  hearing  about  Jesus 
Christ,  and  securing  the  salvation  of 
your  soul.’  ‘ Yes,’  he  replied,  ‘ and 
perhaps  he  has  sent  me  for  this  pur- 
pose, for  I expected  to  go  in  another 
ship,  and  did  not  think  of  coming  in 
this  until  the  very  day  we  left  Boston.’ 
“After  conversing  for  some  time, 
urging  him  to  repent  of  his  sins,  and 
serve  God,  your  father  returned  to  the 
cabin,  and  proposed  to  some  of  the 
missionaries  to  spend  a few  minutes 
in  prayer.  Two  others  of  the  mis- 
sionaries then  accompanied  him  to 
the  forecastle,  where  they  met  and 
conversed  with  four  or  five  of  the 
sailors.  They  all  seemed  interested. 
One  said,  ‘I  never  thought  so  much 
on  the  subject  of  religion  in  my  life  as 


154 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


since  I have  been  on  board  of  this 
ship ! He  added  that  he  had  deter- 
mined to  break  otf  swearing,  and  try 
to  do  as  well  as  he  could.  Another 
said  his  mind  was  in  the  thing,  but  he 
could  not  brine,'  his  heart  to  it.’ 

“ It  was  evident  from  this  time  that 
the  Holy  S2:»irit  was  moving  upon  the 
hearts  of  several  on  board.  One  sai-- 
lor  said,  ‘ Wo  cannot  turn  all  at  once. 
I am  determined  not  to  drink  any 
more,  and  to  leave  otf  swearing.’ 
Another  said,  ‘ The  jweaching  and 
talking  are  enough  to  melt  a 'heart  of 
stone.  I am  not  much  used  to  cry- 
ing, but  when  I hear pi’ay,  I can- 

not hel}:)  it.’  Another  said,  ‘ There  is 
a great  change  in  the  forecastle. 
Where  there  Avere  a hundred  oaths 
last  week,  there  has  not  been  one  this 


SABBATH  AT  SEA. 


155 


week.’  These  are  new  times  on  ship- 
board. 

“The  midnight  watch  saw  sailors 
bowed  under  the  canopy  of  heaven, 
asking  forgiveness  of  sin  for  them- 
selves and  their  companions.  How 
we  longed  that  they  all  might  enter 
the  ark  of  safety,  and  be  borne  to  the 
haven  of  - eternal  bliss!  Yet,  if  but  one 
soul  reaches  heaven  through  God’s 
blessing  on  the  prayers  and  elforts  of 
that  season,  it  will  repay  a thousand 
times  all  the  anxiety  that  was  felt, 
and  all  the  effort  that  was  made.” 
“Yes,  indeed,  mother,”  said  Frank, 
“ a whole  world  cannot  weigh  a single 
soul.” 

“ What  text,  Clarence,  conveys  the 
idea  which  Frank  has  just  expressed?” 
“ What  shall  it  profit  a man  ‘ if  he 


156 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own 
soul  ?’  ” 

There  was  a moment  or  two  of  si- 
lence, w'hen  Mrs.  Eaymond  said, 

“ It  is  time  Emma  to  prepare  tea.” 
“Can  we  not  delay  a little,  mother, 
this  once,”  asked  Frank. 

“ Then  the  interval  before  going  to 
church,  would  be  so  short,  that  we 
should  have  no  time  to  sing  hymns,” 
said  Emma. 

“ Everything  in  its  time,”  said  Mrs. 
Raymond,  as  they  rose,  and  went  into 
the  house. 


VI. 


ASIJOHE  AG  Aim 

On  the  following  clay,  as  soon  as  the 
heat  of  noon-clay  was  moderated,  Mrs. 
Raymond  and  her  auditors  sought 
their  favorite  retreat. 

“ I suppose  my  children  are  weary 
of  being  at  sea,  and  avouIcI  like  to-day 
to  set  foot  on  any  shore,  even  though 
it  be  a heathen  shore,”  said  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond. 

“ I still  think,  clear  mother,”  said 
Emma,  “ that  if  Ave  Avere  really  at  sea, 
Ave  should  indeed  long  for  the  end  of 
the  voyage.  But  I should  never  Aveary 
of  hearing  you  tell  about  it.” 

14 


157 


158 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ Where  did  you  land,  mother?”  in- 
quired Alice. 

“In  Madras,  dear.” 

“ What  was  the  lirst  idea  that  struck 
you,  mamma,  on  .seeing  the  shores  of  ' 
India?”  inquired  Emma. 

“ I suppose  }mu  expect  me  to  say, 
that  my  first  thought  was  of  having 
reached  the  heathen,  and  of  pity  for 
their  condition.  Such  thoughts  had 
their  own  time  and  place  before  and 
after.  But  I remember  distinctly  that 
the  idea  which  impressed  me  most 
strongly  in  first  setting  my  eyes  on  the 
shores  of  India,  Avas  that  of  intense 
heat.  We  lay  at  anchor  in  the  Roads 
three  miles  from  shore.  It  Avas  an 
hour  or  two  after  mid-day,  in  the  lull, 
before  the  sea-breeze  of  the  afternoon 
succeeded  the  hot  land  Avind  of  the 
morning.  The  sun  shot  down  its  most 


ASHORE  AGAIX. 


159 


scorching  rays.  The  slightly  undu- 
lating sea  reflected  them  with  power. 
Beyond,  the  glistening  surf  foamed 
upon  the  sunny  beach.  The  white 
stuccoed  buildings  of  the  street,  which 
ran  along  the  water’s  edge,  added  to 
the  glare.  Dazzling  clouds  lay  be- 
hind and  above  the  city.  It  seemed 
as  though  the  ship  and  the  whole 
scene  before  us  were  just  ready  to 
kindle  and  burn  together.” 

“ Did  the  people  come  out  to  greet 
you,  mother,  and  bring  you  presents?” 
asked  Emma. 

“ I do  not  think  such  of  the  natives 
as  came  in  their  catamarans  and  Ma- 
sulah  boats  about  the  ship,  had  the 
least  idea  of  our  object  in  coming  to 
their  country.  Though  they  brought 
fruits  and  jewelry,  and  other  Avares, 
it  was  with  no  idea  of  presenting 


160 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


them,  hut  with  the  liope  that  we  would 
2)urchase  them.  I remember  that 
■when  we  first  looked  over  the  shij)’s 
sides,  and  saw  the  groiii)  of  native 
boats  that  encircled  us,  the  ladies  of 
our  com2)any  were  so  rejTelled  by  the 
asjDect  ot  their  occu|3ants,  the  almost 
naked,  dark-skinned  boatmen  in  dress 
and  hue,  much  more  like  the  wild  mon- 
key in  his  native  woods,  than  like  any 
human  beings  we  had  seen  before,  that 
they  withdrew  to  the  cabin,  satisfied 
that,  as  the  time  for  doing  them  any 
good,  had  not  yet  arrived,  they  might 
as  well  jmst^^one  making  their  ac- 
quaintance.” 

“ Indeed ! mother,”  exclaimed  Alice, 

“ I thought  you  would  begin  at  once, 
to  tell  them  your  errand.  If  you  did 
not  S2)eak  to  them  then  about  the  Sa- 
viour, you  might  never  have  an  oj)- 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


161 


portunity  to  meet  the  same  individuals 
again.” 

“ How  could  we,  my  dear  ? We  did 
not  understand  their  language,  and 
they  knew  nothing  of  ours.” 

“ But,  mother,”  said  Alice,  “ I have 
heard  of  communicating  with  the 
heathen  by  signs.” 

“It  is  only  very  general  ideas  of 
Deity  and  of  accountability  that  can 
be  communicated  in  that  way ; ideas 
too  that  Ave  hold  already  in  common. 
Anything  ivholly  new  to  the  mind, 
like  the  idea  of  an  atoning  Saviour. 
I do  not  see  that  we  could  possibly 
suggest.” 

“ But  why  not,”  asked  Emma,  “giim 
them  the  more  general  ideas  at  least, 
at  first?” 

“ Thoughts  of  Deity,  and  heaven  and 

hell,  and  sin  and  holiness,  etc.,  it  is 
u * 


162 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


true,  they  have  in  some  sense,  in  com- 
mon with  us  ; yet  tlieir  views  are  very 
erroneous  and  distorted,  and  if  we 
commenced  calling  their  thoughts  to- 
ward the  Divdne  Being  for  instance, 
they  would  be  reminded  only  of  their 
own  preconceived  notions.  They  would 
think  we  were  exhortino^'  them  to  wor- 
ship  Siva  or  Pulliar,  and  we  could  not 
by  signs  explain  the  difference.  They 
have  an  idea  too,  that  they  are  very 
religious,  and  in  a sense  they  are. 
They  refer  much  oftener  in  their  talk 
to  their  idols  than  we  do  to  the  Su- 
preme Being,  and  make  far  more 
proclamation  of  fear  and  reverence 
for  him.  They  too  are  far  better  mas- 
ters of  pantomime  than  we,  and  would 
very  soon  turn  teacher,  and  put  us 
down  with  their  facility  of  communi- 
cation, and  their  display  of  devotion. 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


163 


“ Those  who  came  to  the  ship,  came 
probably  depending  on  the  bargains 
they  could  drive  with  the  new  comers, 
for  their  dinners,  of  which  they  were 
perhaps  in  pressing  want ; and,  to 
have  detained  them  at  such  a time, 
while  we  novices  attempted  to  make 
spiritual  impressions,  without  the  aid 
even  of  words,  would  have  been  only 
to  prejudice  them  against  the  precious 
truths  we  wished  to  have  them  receive 
in  love.” 

“ So  mother,  you  went  and  hid  your- 
selves like  frightened  people,  when 
you  saw  the  natives  coming.  I won- 
der what  they  thought  of  you,”  said 
Clarence. 

“ We  went  to  the  cabin,  but  they 
knew  nothing  about  it.  However, 
some  time  afterward,  when  our  hus- 
bands told  us  that  there  were  native 


164 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


merchants  on  deck,  who  were  decently 
clothed,  and  who  wished  the  privilege 
of  showing  us  their  wares,  we  went 
up  again  to  them.  These  were  quite 
a different  set  of  people,  yet  neither 
with  these  could  we  converse.  They 
opened  their  cases,  and  showed  us 
what  they  had  to  dispose  of,  and  were 
able  to  say,  ‘ one  rupee,’  or  ‘ one  and 
half  rupee,’  or  ‘ two  and  quarter  ru- 
pee,’ or  ‘ten  rupee,’  but  nothing  more 
than  to  name  the  price  of  their  arti- 
cles. When  we  shook  our  heads,  they 
could  understand  very  well  that  we 
did  not  wish  to  purchase.” 

“ How  long,  mother,”  asked  Emma, 
“did  you  lie  there  at  anchor?  I 
should  think  you  would  have  been 
anxious  to  get  on  land  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible.” 

“ Probably  we  were,  though  I have 


ASHORE  AGAIN, 


165 


no  distinct  recollection  of  any  feeling 
of  impatience.  But  we  are  very  apt 
I think  to  forget  our  wrong  feelings, 
and  remember  only  our  right  ones,” 

“ But  how  did  you  get  ashore?”  in- 
quired Frank.  “ It  says  in  my  geog- 
raphy that  the  surf  along  that  coast  is 
very  dangerous.” 

“ It  is  so,  my  dear,  at  times,  and 
only  the  native  boats,  manned  by  na- 
tives, can  live  in  it,” 

“ It  is  a new  idea,”  replied  Clar- 
ence, “ if  Yankees  can’t  make  a boat 
that  will  do  as  well  as  a boat  made  by 
those  poor  heathen  Hindoos,” 

“ Perhaps  Yankees  havn’t  tried, 
and  even  if  they  were  to  invent  as 
good  a boat,  they  would  need  a long 
training  probably  to  enable  them  to 
conduct  it  safely, 

“ Some  3’ears  »go,  an  English  cap- 


166 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


tain,  who  would  not  admit  that  Hin- 
doos could  do  what  he  could  not,  un- 
dertook, against  the  remonstrances  of 
his  men,  to  go  ashore  in  his  own  boat, 
and  was  drowned.  If  any  Yankee 
mariner  is  too  conceited  to  accept  the 
services  of  natives,  and  tlieir  Masulah 
boat,  he,  doubtless,  will  share  the  same 
fate.” 

“ Masulah  boat ! What  is  that, 
mother,”  said  Clarence  ? “ AVhat  gives 
it  such  advantage  over  other  boats?” 

“ The  planks  are  se\ved  together 
with  a cord  made  from  the  fibre  of  the 
cocoa-nut  husk.  This  makes  it  more 
yielding,  and  less  likely  to  break  with 
the  force  of  the  waves,  than  a boat 
that  is  fastened  together  with  nails.” 

“ I heard,”  said  Frank,  “they  called 
that  kind  of  boat  a Catamaran.” 

“ You  are  thinking  of  another  kind 


Dlioney.  Catamaran.  MasiihUi-boat. 

Out  at  Sea.  madras.  ’ P.  166. 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


167 


of  boat,  wliicli  is  smaller  and  more 
simple.  The  natives  call  it  Cottnma- 
rum,  meaning  tied  tree  or  tied  wood. 
We  change  it  to  Catamaran.  In  mak- 
ing that,  they  cut  three  portions  of 
the  trunk  of  a palmyra  tree,  one  a lit- 
tle longer  than  the  other,  and,  laying 
the  longest  in  the  middle,  so  that  it 
will  project  at  the  end  of  the  struc- 
ture as  a prow,  they  lash  the  three 
together  Avith  ropes.  At  the  stern  the 
three  logs  lie  flat  upon  the  ivater ; at 
the  proAv  the  ends  of  the  outside  logs 
are  made  sometimes  to  lie  upon  the 
middle  log,  Avhich  makes  the  prow 
narrower  than  the  other  end  of  the 
boat,  and  causes  it  to  cut  the  water 
with  less  resistance.  This  is  a Cata- 
maran. This  boat  Avill  endure  per- 
haps be^’ond  any  other  boat  ever  con- 
structed. It*  may  be  half  the  time 


168 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


under  water,  but  it  will  come  to  the 
surface.  It  may  be  overturned,  but 
it  will  right  itself.  The  boatman  may 
be  washed  otf,  but  he  will  get  on 
again.  When  we  first  saw  these  boats, 
we  did  not  see  them  at  all ! but  saw 
only  the  men  upon  them,  and  we  said, 

‘ If  our  senses  do  not  deceive  us,  the 
natives  are  walking  on  the  water.’  ” 
“Ah,”  said  Frank,  “but  you  know 
your  senses  did  deceive  you.” 

“ Yes,  Ave  Avere  satisfied  of  that. 
But  hoAv  do  you  think  they  manage  to 
carry  letters  and  important  dispatches 
from  ship  to  shore,  and  also  from 
Ceylon  to  the  continent  in  such  a boat 
without  getting  them  Avet?” 

“ I should  think  it  a hopeless  un- 
dertaking,” said  Alice. 

“ Well,  all  of  you  think  a minute, 
and  see  if  you  can  contrive  Avhere 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


169 


they  had  better  put  the  letters  to 
keep  them  safe  and  dry.  The  boat  you 
know  is  part  of  the  time  quite  under 
water,  and  the  boatmen  themselves 
are  liable,  not  only  to  be  washed  by 
the  waves,  but  to  be  washed  off  occa- 
sionally.” 

If  there  were  a hold,  the}"  might 
pack  them  in  that,”  said  Frank. 

“ If  there  were  a mast,  they  might 
tie  them  to  the  mast-head,”  said  Alice. 

“ Strap  the  letter-bags  to  the  man’s 
shoulders.  Then  they  will  not  get 
Avet,  unless  he  is  actually  washed  intO' 
the  sea,”  said  Clarence. 

“ The  man’s  head  is  higher  than  his 
shoulders,”  said  Emma,  “ and  if  he  is 
Avashed  over,  he  Avill  manage  at  least 
to  keep  his  head  out  of  Avater.  Tie 
them  upon  his  head.” 

“ They  plait  a high,  cone-shaped 

15 


170 


OUT-  AT  SEA. 


cap  of'the  dried  leaves  of  the  palm,  so 
close  as  to  be  water-tight,  and  in  this 
they  put  the  letters,  and  seldom  fail  to 
convey  them  quite  dry  and  safe.” 

“ The  pointed  cap  is  the  best  shape 
they  could  have  devised,”  said  Emma. 

“ One  of  our  gentleman’s  beavers 
filled  with  letters,”  said  Frank, 
“ would  not  keep  its  place  in  a gale 
very  well.” 

“ No,  and  any  kind  of  cap  that  ex- 
tended at  the  sides  would  be  easily 
puffed  off,”  said  Emma. 

“ Yes,  and  if  he  got  into  the  water, 
it  would  make  it  more  difficult  for  the 
swimmer  to  keep  his  head  steady.” 

“I  think  the  natives  have  a good 
deal  of  sense  after  all,”  said  Clar- 
ence. 

“ Yes,  in  many  things  the}''  show 
both  inventive  faculty  and  practical 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


171 


skill,  but  these  are  so  cramped  and 
dwarfed  through  the  influence  of 
caste  rules,  that  no  advance  is  made, 
and  the  useful  arts  are  in  a very  rude 
state  among  them.” 

“ I liked  it  out  at  sea  very  well,  but 
this  lounging  in  the  harbor  is  a little 
dull.  Can’t  you  hurry  ashore, 
mother,  if  you  please?”  said  Clar- 
ence. 

“ It  had  been  arranged  that  we 
should  leave  the  ship  immediately 
after  sunset.  We  could  but  feel  sad 
at  parting  with  the  ship  which  for 
nearly  four  months  had  been  our 
home,  and  Avhere  we  had  met  so 
many  new  lessons  and  experiences. 
We  felt  a real  regard  for  the  sailors, 
though  some  of  us  had  never  spoken 
with  them.  Yet  we  had  seen  their 
faithful  performance  of  those  tasks 


172 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


which  kept  the  ship  in  trim,  and 
made  it  a comfortable  abode  for  us, 
and  which,  in  rough  weather,  were 
hourly  essential  to  our  safety  and  life. 

“ We  had  been  in  the  same  storms, 
the  same  calms,  the  same  favorina: 
gales,  while  all  the  world  besides 
Avere  shut  out.  Our  anxieties  and  en- 
joyments had  been  in  a measure  for 
the  while  in  common.  We  felt  that 
we  Avere  on  the  same  voyage  of  life 
Avith  them,  and  Avere  sailing  onward 
to  the  same  eternity.  Our  captain, 
too;  Ave  had  felt  through  the  voyage, 
that  under  God  Ave  Avere  in  his  hands, 
and  he  and  his  officers  had  shoAved  us 
no  little  kindness.” 

“ But  how,”  said  Frank,  “ did  you 
get  out  of  the  ship  into  the  boats, 
mother  ?” 

“I  Avas  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  and 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


173 


elevated  by  ropes  over  the  ship’s  side, 
and  thus  let  down  to  the  Masulah 
l)oat.  As  they  lifted  me  from  the 
deck,  I looked  up  for  some  pleasant 
object  that  I could  tlx  my  eyes  upon 
when  I should  have  turned  my  back 
upon  the  ship,  and  should  be  seated 
among  the  native  boatmen. 

“ The  lovely  new  moon  was  lying- 
low  among  the  bright  still  clouds  in 
the  twilight  sky,  and  seemed  sent  to 
cheer  us,  as  we  rode  over  the  darken- 
ing sea.  The  boatmen  stimulated 
their  exertions  by  a peculiar  kind  of 
song,  or  rather  by  repeating  in  unison  a 
few  animating  sounds,  half  sung,  half 
spoken.  As  we  approached  the  surf, 
they  became  vociferous,  the  captain 
shouting,  and  keeping  time  with  his 
foot,  and  the  men  calling  Allah ! Allah ! 
Allah  ! as  though  they  were  in  great 


174 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


fear.  The  design  probably  was,  in 
part,  to  make  an  impression  upon  our 
nerves. 

“ When  a wave  was  coming  toward 
shore,  they  rowed  backward,  that  they 
might  mount  it  before  it  broke.  It 
bore  us  forward  with  great  force  and 
swiftness,  and  broke  in  advance  of  us. 
After  it  broke,  they  put  fortli  all  their 
strength  to  make  the  utmost  progress 
before  the  next  wave  approached. 
Xow  the  shouts  were  renewed,  and 
increased  in  violence.  Suddenlv  they 
ceased  rowing  and  laid  down  their 
oars,  as  though  they  would  abandon 
us  to  our  fate.  It  was  a ruse  to  in- 
duce their  passengers  to  offer  a pre- 
sent. There  was  no  hcl|)  for  us,  we 
were  in  their  hands,  and  a reward  was 
offered,  if  they  would  take  us  safely 
over  the  surf  witliout  wetting  us. 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


175 


“ Their  point  gained,  they  resumed 
their  rowing,  and  shouted  most  heart- 
ily. We  could  see  through  the  dim- 
ness a broad  column  of  natives,  which 
lined  the  beach.  Their  clamor  rose 
above  the  uproar  of  the  surf,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  boatmen.  Such  a jar- 
gon of  strange  sounds  can  never, 
doubtless,  have, been  heard  before  or 
since.  The  situation  was  a little  try- 
ing to  delicate  nerves,  and,  when  the 
boat  "struck  the  beach,  we  were  Avill- 
ing  to  avail  ourselves  of  a ride  on  na- 
tive shoulders,  through  the  water,  to 
a spot  of  firm,  dry  ground.  Dear 
earth ! Did  we  not  press  her  with 
loving  feet?  Were  we  not  almost 
ready  to  kiss  her?  And  yet  at  first  she 
seemed  to  try  to  shake  us  otf.  Strange 
mother  earth ! She  would  not  rock  us,  as 
we  were  used  for  months  previous  to 


176 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


"be  rocked,  and  so  we  tliouglit  iier  un- 
natural, 

“ But  the  clamor  about  us  increased, 
and  worn  with  fatigue  and  excitement, 
we  sought  a way  of  escape.  A cab- 
man approached,  and  said  adroitly, 
but  in  imperfect  English,  ‘Here  is  Mr. 
Arbuthnot’s  carriage,  sent  for  3mu.’ 
“ Mr.  Arbuthnot  was  a distinguished 
English  merchant,  and  such  an  atten- 
tion could  not  be  slighted.  Doubtful 
though  we  might  be  of  the  truth  of 
the  statement,  the  case  did  not  admit 
of  investigation.  The  demand  of  the 
usual  carriage-hire  at  the  end  of  our 
drive,  made  it  sufficiently  clear.” 

“ Was  not  that  a sharp  trick?”  said 
Frank. 

“ I wonder  he  didn’t  drive  ^mu  into 
some  frightful  place,  and  then  demand 
money  to  get  ^mu  out.” 


ASHORE  AGAIN. 


177 


“ That  would  have  been  going  too 
far,  as  it  would  have  made  him  liable 
to  punishment.  The  long  established 
authority  of  the  East  India  Company 
secures  a good  deal  of  respect  for  law 
in  Madras.” 

“What  kind  of  house  was  it,  mother, 
at  which  you  stopped?”  asked  Alice. 

“ It  was  a large,  gloomy-looking 
place,  the  first  floor  of  which  was  not 
habitable,  but  appeared  to  have  been 
occupied  for  storage,  and  s'ome  kind 
of  work.  A cow  seemed  to  have  been 
stabled  in  one  corner  of  it,  and  I re- 
member, thinking  of  an  ancient  inn 
in  Bethlehem,  and  of  an  infant  that 
was  cradled  in  a manger. 

“ But  our  missionaries  were  in  press- 
ing need  of  rest,  and  a supper.  We 
will  leave  them  to  enjoy  it,  while  we 
return  home  to  find  ours.” 


vn. 

MAD  It  AS  TO  CJEYLOy^. 

“ Aee  you  at  liberty  to-day,  mo- 
tlier?”  said  Frank,  after  the  talks  had 
been  interrupted  for  a few  days. 

“ I hope  we  may  spend  an  hour  or 
two  together  this  afternoon.  But  I 
think  our  old  resort  will  hardly  be  a 
safe  place  for  ns  to-day.” 

“Oh,  how  can  we  give  that  up?” 
said  Alice.  “ I don’t  know  another  so 
pretty  spot  anywhere  as  that.  What 
is  the  difficulty,  mamma?” 

“We  have  'had  so  much  rainy 
weather  lately,  and  the  land  is  so  low 
in  the  Flollow,  that  the  sun  of  yester- 
day cannot  have  dried  it  sufficiently.” 

178 


MADKAS  TO  CEYLON. 


179 


“ Shall  we  go  upon  the  hill-top  in 
the  rear  of  the  house,  mamma  ? The 
sun  has  access  there  all  clay,”  said 
Emma. 

“ Yes,”  said  Alice,  “ and  the  south 
wind  was  blowing  over  it  all  day  yes- 
terday. The  wind  does  not  reach  tlie 
Hollow  much.” 

“ The  seventeen  year  locusts,”  said 
Clarence,  “ are  too  thick  there.  It  is 
so  warm  there,  they  like  it.  The  trees 
are  young,  and  let  the  sunshine 
through.” 

“ Mere  tall  briish,  and  I am  afraid 
will  hardly  afford  us  any  shade,”  said 
Emma. 

“ The  locusts  have  almost  died  off 
now.  I have  not  heard  one  sing  Pha- 
raoh, to-day,”  said  Frank. 

“ Mamma,  is  there  any  truth  in 
their  saying  Pharaoh?”  asked  Clarence. 


180 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ As  much  that  as  anything-,  per- 
haps,” said  mamma,  smiling. 

“ I know  where  there  is  one  tine 
large  tree  on  that  hill,”  said  Clarence. 

“ That  will  give  us  shade  enouQ-h.” 

“But  Ave  have  no  attachments 
there,”  said  Alice. 

“AVe  soon  shall  have,”  said  Clar- 
ence, “if  we  all  sit  there  together  a 
few  times.” 

feo  it  was  decided  they  should  trv 
the  hill-top. 

On  reaching  the  large  tree,  it  Avas 
seen  that  tliere  Avere  no  seats  at  hand, 
and  it  took  a little  time  to  find  boul- 
ders and  old  bits  of  stump,  and  roll 
them  to  the  place.  But  Clarence  av<)s 
active  and  full  of  resource,  and 
Frank  Avas  very  ready  to  lend  a hand. 
ShaAA’ls  had  been  brought  as  usual  to 
serve  as  cushions. 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


181 


The  spot,  though  possessing  no 
raarkecl  beauties,  Avas  charming  in  its 
seclusion  and  quietness.  The  village 
lay  before  them  in  the  valley.  The 
faint  tinkle  of  a bell  told  where  cows 
were  grazing  in  a distant  pasture.  A 
squirrel  peered  down  from  the  end  of 
a branch,  and  eyed  the  little  group 
keenly  for  an  instant,  but  when  Frank 
Avhispered,  “ Look,”  and  touched  his 
mother’s  arm  most  cautiously,  it 
turned  and  Avhizzed  away  for  its  cov- 
ert. The  day  was  warm,  but  a mild 
breeze  fanned  them  now  and  then. 

“ I am  sure  we  need  not  think  there 
is  but  one  j)leasant  spot  in  the  wmrld,” 
said  Alice. 

should  not  have  thought,”  said 
Emma,  “ of  climbing  a hill,  to  look 
for  a retired,  loAmly  place  to  sit  and 

talk  together.  A hill  is  so  conspicu- 
16 


182 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


ous,  it  seems  public  when  you  look  at 
it  from  below.” 

“ And  yet  hill-tops  are  the  most  un- 
frequented, secluded  spots  in  the 
world.  Think  of  the  higdi  mountains, 
whose  peaks  have  never  been  trodden 
since  the  creation.  What  solitudes 
unbroken  for  ages!” 

“ MoUier,  you  mentioned  that  you 
had  a sister  in  India,  who  went  there 
when  you  were  a child,”  said  Emma. 

Oh,  yes,  and  made  a fan  for  }mu 
of  albatross’  feathers  on  board  ship, 
and  sent  it  home  to  you,”  said  Frank! 

“Did  she  never  come  home  again?” 
asked  Alice.  ° 

“ JYo,  my  dear.” 

Did  she  use  to  write  letters  to  you, 
when  you  were  a little  girl  ?”  asked 
Clarence. 

Yes,  dear,  she  wrote  often  to  us, 


MADRAS  TO  CETLON. 


183 


and  most  interesting  letters  they  were. 
But  in  those  days  it  took  usually  six 
months,  and  sometimes  two  years,  for 
letters  from  India  to  reach  us.  Very 
rarely  then  an  American  vessel  went 
to  India,  and  communication  through 
England  was  subject  to  much  delay.” 
“ It  was  a great  day  with  us  when 
a letter  came.  There  were  usually 
several  sheets  of  close  writing.  The 
whole  family  would  assemble,  and  my 
father  or  one  of  my  brothers  would 
read,  while  my  mother  and  sisters  sat 
with  their  sewing  and  listened.  I well 
remember  the  tears  that,  as  I sat  upon 
my  little  foot-stool,  I used  to  see  drop 
upon  my  mother’s  work,  as  she  list- 
ened to  the  reading.” 

“ What  did  she  write  about,  mo- 
ther?” asked  Frank. 

“ She  wrote  much  about  the  people 


184 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


of  India,  and  the  boys  and  girls  in  the 
schools.  Sometimes  about  her  own 
comforts  or  trials.  Often  about  her 
little  children,  your  cousins.  Some- 
times she  tried  to  persuade  the  ‘three 
little  girls,’  as  she  called  her  three 
youngest  sisters,  to  seek  the  ‘pearl  of 
great  price.’  Once  I remember  she 
said  she  would  be  glad  to  see  the 
thiee  little  girls,’  but  would  rather 
see  them  in  India  than  America.” 

“ And  was  not  grandmamma  will- 
ing  to  have  her  go  and  live  among  the 
heathen,  and  try  to  do  them  good?” 
asked  Frank. 

“ Certainly,  my  dear,  but  she  could 
not  help  feeling  sad,  when  she  thought 
how  far  she  was  from  her,  and  from 
all  her  kindred,  and  that  she  would 
probably  never  see  any  of  us  again  in 
this  world.” 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


185 


“ And  wasn’t  she  glad  when  you  set 
out  to  go  to  India,  to  think  she  could 
see  one  of  her  sisters  again?”  asked 
Clarence. 

“ JS^o  doubt  it  gave  my  mother  much 
satisfaction,  both  on  my  sister’s  ac- 
count, and  my  own,  that  I was  to  go 
to  the  same  mission  where  she  was.” 
“Ah!  mother,”  said  Clarence,  “I 
begin  now  to  susjDect  that  you  did  not 
go  to  India  just  to  do  good.  I guess 
you  were  a little  captivated  with  the 
idea  of  seeing  my  aunt,  and  the  places 
and  the  people  that  you  had  heard  so 
much  about  from  her  letters.” 

“ And  was  she  living  in  Madras, 
mamma,  and  did  the  cabman  drive 
you  to  her  house?”  asked  Frank,  ea- 
gerly. 

“ She  never  lived  in  Madras,  dear, 
but  in  Ceylon.” 

16  * 


186 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“And  you  were  going  to  Ceylon, 
mother,  to  see  her,  were  you  not?” 
asked  Clarence. 

“ It  was  to  Ceylon  we  were  going, 
dear.  That  was  the  mission  to  which 
we  were  assigned.”  ‘ 

O \ 

“ How  soon  did  you  go,  mother?” 
asked  Emma. 

“ Did  you  get  there  safe,  and  find 
my  aunt  and  cousins  well?”  inquired 
Alice. 

“I  cannot  tell  you  about  Ceylon 
now,  dear  children.  I must  go  back 
to  the  ship,  and  tell  you  something 
that  happened  there.  Clarence  hur- 
ried me  ashore,  you  know,”  said  JVIrs. 
Raymond,  with  a smile,  which  how- 
ever seemed  assumed. 

“To  the  ship  again,  mother?”  ex- 
claimed Emma,  gloomily;  “I  thought 
we  were  safely  ashore.” 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


187 


“ Do  let  us  hear  about  our  cousins 
first,  mother,”  said  Clarence. 

“We  rode  at  anchor  for  a day  or 
two.  Some  of  the  gentlemen  went 
ashore  on  Saturday  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  our  landing.  We  were  a 
large  com]Dany,  eleven  of  us,  to  find  a 
temporary  home  where  there  were  no 
hotels.  Rooms  had  to  be  rented,  and  a 
little  furniture  got  together  sufficient 
to  enable  us  to  keep  house  for  a short 
time.  They  were  gone  a long  while, 
and  it  began  to  be  evident  that  we 
must  spend  the  Sabbath  on  ship- 
board. 

“ One  of  the  ladies,  Mrs.  W.  and  I 
were  speaking  of  my  pleasant  antici- 
pation of  meeting  relatives,  when  the 
song  of  the  native  boatmen  announced 
the  return  of  the  gentlemen,  who  had 
W,en  ashore.  ‘ Oh  !’  said  she,  ‘ if  I 


188 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


were  going  to  my  brother !’  ‘I  think,’ 
continued  she,  ‘it  would  be  worth 
more  to  me  than  your  going  to  your 
sister,  because  I have  been  always 
vith  him.  ‘I  don’t  know  how  much 
more  that  would  be  worth  to  you,  but 
I know  this  is  enough  for  me,’  I ex- 
claimed exultingly,  as  I hurried  upon 
deck  to  learn  what  word  had  come 
from  shore. 

“ At  the  top  of  the  companion-way, 
I met  our  captain  B.,  and  as  I asked 
for  the  news,  I saw  that  something  af- 
fected him  deeply.  Is  he  so  very 
sad,  thought  I,  because  he  must  p^t 
with  his  passengers  ? But  no,  I knew 
that  could  not  be  all.  I passed  out  on 
deck,  and  asked  again  for  the  tidings. 
One  of  the  gentlemen  sighed  heavily  as 
he  took  my  hand.  Ah  ! he  has  seen  so 
much  of  the  condition  of  the  poor  hea- 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


189 


then,  said  I mentally,  my  light-heart- 
edness is  discordant  with  his  feelings. 
The  other  passed  without  speaking,  and 
both  descended  to  the  cabin.  ‘Surely 
there  is  trouble,’  I thought,  and  with- 
out conjecturing  what  or  whose  it  was, 
I instinctively  withdrew  to  my  state- 
room, to  ask  for  whoever  might  need 
it,  grace  to  bear  sorrow  and  profit  by 
it.  Soon,  as  the  missionaries  con- 
versed in  the  adjoining  cabin,  I heard 
my  name  mentioned,  and  my  first 
thought  was,  ‘ Have  I done  anything 
to  grieve  them?’  In  a moment  after, 
your  father  entered  the  state-room 
and  informed  me  that  my  sister  was 
dead.” 

“ Oh ! mother,”  said  Frank. 

“ Is  it  possible?”  said  Clarence. 

“ I was  afraid  it  would  be  so,”  said 
Emma. 


190 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“ How  sad !”  exclaimed  Alice. 

For  a little  while,  no  one  felt  like 
breaking  the  silence  that  followed. 
Hy-and-bye  Clarence  said, 

“ Mother,  were  you  not  sorry  that 
you  went  ?” 

“ Far  from  it,  my  love.  I felt  dis- 
appointed indeed.  My  admiration  of 
my  sister,  and  recollections  of  her  lov- 
ing care  of  my  early  childhood,  made 
me  long  to  see  her,  and  her  dear  fam- 

“Besides  I had  thought  much  of 
having  her  example  and  experience  to 
guide  me  in  that  strange  land,  and  in 
my  new  work.  But  I felt  that  God 
knew  best.” 

“ Had  it  ever  occurred  to  you  that 
such  a thing  could  happen,  mother?”, 
asked  Emma. 

“ Yes,  dear,  whenever  I thought  of 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


191 


meeting  my  sister,  I always  checked 
myself,  or  perhaps  I should  say, 
was  checked  with  the  thought  that 
she  might  not  he  there  when  I reached 
her  home.  These  thoughts,  though 
they  clouded  some  pleasant  anticipa- 
tions, doubtless  made  the  shock  less, 
when  it  came.” 

“ But  if  you  could  only  have  heard 
of  it,  before  leaving  America,”  said 
Alice.  “Then  it  would  not  have  been 
so  hard  to  bear.” 

“ I heard  of  it  at  the  best  time,  my 
child.  Had  the  news  come  when  I 
was  bidding  adieu  to  all  my  friends, 
the  effect  would  perhaps  have  been  too 
depressing.  It  came  just  when  there 
was  danger  of  my  being  too  much 
elated.  Everything  is  indeed  for  the 
best  for  us,  if  we  put  our  trust  in 
God.” 


192 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


“Did  grandmamma  know  about 
it?”  asked  Emma. 

‘ She  heard  of  it  a week  after  we 
sailed.” 

“It  had  never  occurred  to  me  that 
I should  not  find  my  sister’s  family, 
where  I had  always  pictured  them,  in 
Oodooville.  Against  the  idea  1 al- 
most rebelled.  But  her  family  too, 
her  husband  and  three  little  daughters 
were  gone,  and  could  not  be  recalled. 
They  had  touched  at  Madras  on  their 
way  to  America,  and  left  there  only 
three  days  before  our  arrival.” 

“And  mother,  did  you  think  that 
too  was  ordered  right?”  asked  Emma. 

“ I did  after  a while,  though  at  first 
I could  not  believe  it  must  be  so.  It 
seemed  as  though  it  could  be  counter- 
manded in  some  way ; as  though  it 
could  not  be,  but  that  there  was  some 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON’, 


193 


mistake.  In  short  my  mind  was  not 
prepared  for  it.” 

“ It  seems  to  me,  mother,  I shall 
never  dare  to  expect  any  pleasure, 
everything  is  so  uncertain,”  said  Clar- 
ence. 

“ Everything  is  uncertain,  except 
what  rests  on  the  Avord  of  God.” 
“But,  mother,”  said  Alice,  “God 
has  not  told  us  what  is  going  to  hap- 
l)en  to  us  in  this  life.” 

“ Therefore,  as  Clarence  says,  every- 
thing in  this  life  is  uncertain,  and  can- 
not be  dejoended  on.” 

“ But,  mamma,  can  we  never  have 
any  hopes  or  expectations?”  asked 
Emma.  “Why,  I think  it  the  best 
part  of  life.” 

“ We  may,  dear,  have  hopes  and 
expectations,  and  enjoy  much  in  them, 
but  living  too  much  in  the  future,  of- 

17 


194 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


ten  makes  people  inattentive  to  the 
duties,  and  insensible  to  the  mercies 
of  the  present,  and  a sense  of  our 
liabdity  to  disappointment,  helps  to 
counteract  this  evil.” 

“ People  would  be  always  unhappy, 
if  they  were  always  expecting  disap- 
pointment and  sorrow,”  said  Emma. 

“ To  expect  sorrow  is  one  thing,”  re- 
plied her  mother,  “ to  be  conscious  that 
It  may  come,  is  another.  The  one 
awakens  fear,  the  other  only  moderates 
expectation.” 

“ But,  mother,  to  enjoy  the  hope  of 
a thing,  I have  to  banish  all  thought 
that  it  may  fail.” 

That  is,  you  have  to  blind  your- 
self to  a known  fact.” 

“ True,  mother,  otherwise  I cannot 
expect  fully  and  joyfully.” 

“ But  suppose  you  knew  that  you 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


195 


would  have  the  thing  desired,  or  some- 
thing else  equally  desirable.” 

“ That  Avould  be  quite  satisfactory,” 
said  Emma. 

“ That  every  one  may  expect  with 
certainty  of  not  being  disappointed, 
if  he  trusts  ‘ not  in  uncertain’  good, 
‘but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us 
richly  all  things  to  enjoy.’  ” 

“ How,  mother?” 

“Are  we  not  assured  that  having 
not  withheld  his  own  Son,  but  deliv- 
ered Him  up  for  us  all.  He  will  with 
Him  also  freely  give  us  all  things? 
That  ‘no  good  thing  will  He  with- 
hold,’ and  that  all  things  work  to- 
gether for  good  to  those  who  love 
Him.” 

“ From  these  assurances  we  know, 
if  He  withholds  anything,  that  it  was 
not  really  for  our  good,  and  that  the 


196 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


withholding  shall  work  for  good.  The 
withholding  in  that  case  is  more  de- 
sirable for  us  than  the  granting.  So 
if  we  trust  in  Him  who  knows  better 
than  we,  and  who  loves  us  with  a 
ti  uer  love  than  we  bear  for  ourselves, 
we  are  sure  of  having  the  thing  we 
wish,  or  that  which  is  more  desirable. 
I assure  you  this  feeling  makes  ex- 
pectation cheerful,  and  also  makes 
disappointment  tolerable.” 

“ Mother,  did  you  continue  your 
voyage  to  Ceylon,  immediately?” 
asked  Emma. 

“After  about  three  weeks.” 

“ Will  you  go  on  now,”  said  Alice, 
and  tell  us  about  your  voyage  from 
Madras  to  Ceylon?” 

‘Ibere  was  not  much  of  incident 
in  it,  dear.  Still,  we  will  talk  it  over 
a little.” 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON, 


197 


“ And  where  are  we  now,  mamma  ?” 
said  Frank. 

“ Sitting  at  the  top  of  Woody- 
slope,”  said  Clarence,  thinking  that 
an  agreeable  and  suitable  name  would 
facilitate  the  friendship  which  he  pro- 
posed to  cultivate  with  this  new  lo- 
cality. 

“ Mamma  understands  me,”  said 
Frank,  gravel3^ 

“ I think  we  must  consider  ourselves 
now  just  seated  in  a native  dhoney, 
about  leaving  Madras  for  the  island 
of  Ceylon.” 

“ Our  boat,  I think,  is  rather 
roughly  furnished,”  said  Clarence, 
looking  down  at  the  sj^lintery  frag- 
ment of  a tree-trunk,  on  which  he  sat. 

“ You  must  not  expect  modern  im- 
provements in  a Madras  dhoney,”  re- 
plied his  mother. 


198 


ODT  AT  SEA. 


“ Your  state-room  is  partitioned  off, 
and  roofed  in,  Avitli  dried  cocoa-nut 
leaves,  and  lias  for  its  floor  loose 
boards  laid  across  the  freight  boxes, 
Avhich  occupy  the  bottom  of  the  boat! 
^ our  mattrass  will  just  cover  the  di- 
mensions of  your  state-room  floor  at 
night,  and  in  the  day,  rolled  up,  will 
serve  instead  of  a chair.” 

Is  there  no  deck,  then,  in  those 
dhonies,  mother  ?”  asked  Clarence. 

“ ]\ot  in  all  of  them.” 

“Suppose  3mu  ship  a sea,”  said 
Frank.  • 

“ You  must  ‘ Hope  for  the  best,’  and 
if  the  worst  comes,  ‘Make  the  best  of 
it,’  ” said  Alice. 

“Well  done,  Alice,”  said  Frank. 
And  how  long  Avill  it  take  us  to 
go  to  Ceylon,  sailing  in  this  Hindoo 
dhoney?”  asked  Emma. 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON’. 


199 


“ About  three  days,  with  favorable 
weather.” 

“Where  shall  we  land?”  inquired 
Alice. 

“ At  a small  island  called  Kaits, 
which  is  at  the  entrance  of  a narrow 
channel,  that  cuts  off  the  northern 
part  of  Ceylon  from  the  main  island.” 
“ The  dhoney  we  are  in,  which  is 
one  of  the  largest  native  vessels,  can- 
not navigate  the  channel.” 

“ We  reached  Kaits  on  Sunday 
morning,  and  as  the  dhoney  we  were 
in  was  too  large  to  navigate  the  chan- 
nel, we  rode  at  anchor  there  till  Mon- 
day morning.” 

“ I have  heard,”  said  Emma,  “ that 
- it  is  very  uncomfortable  riding  at  an- 
chor, more  so  than  sailing.” 

“ It  is  so.  When  you  are  sailing, 
the  force  of  the  wind  generally  coun- 


200 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


teracts  the  force  of  the  waves,  and 
keeps  the  sliip  from  rocking  so  much 
as  when  you  are  at  anchor.” 

Then,  why  did  you  not  go  on  shore 
immediately,  mamma?  I ain  sure 
you  could  have  spent  the  Sabbath  bet- 
ter on  shore,”  said  Alice. 

“ True,  we  might  have  spent  it 
more  comfortably,  and  perhaps  more 
profitably  on  shore,  but  it  would  have 
been  as  much  to  the  disadvantage  of 
- others,  as  to  our  advantage.  To  reach 
our  destination  we  should  have  been 
obliged  first  to  call  our  dhoney-men  to 
take  us  in  a small  dhoney  to  tiie  shore, 
and  then  to  call  a large  number  of 
palankeen  bearers  and  coolies  to  con- 
vey us  on  their  shoulders,  or  by  hand 
bandies  to  our  several  stopiiino'-nlaces 
All  this  could  not  have  been  done 
without  disturbing  ami  burdening 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


201 


many  persons,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
excitement  it  would  have  stirred 
among  the  natives  in  the  different  vil- 
lages through  which  we  had  to  pass, 
to  hear  that  new  missionaries  had 
come,  or  of  the  derangement  of  the 
duties  of  the  holy  day  in  all  the  mis- 
sion families,  to  which  we  were  des- 
tined.” 

“ I fear,”  said  Emma,  “ I should  not 
have  taken  all  this  into  account.  I 
should  have  said,  ‘ Here  are  a number 
of  very  uncomfortable  people,  and  it 
must  be  right  for  them  to  go  as 
quickly  as  possible  to  some  place  of 
quiet  rest.’  ” 

“ Is  it  not  a common  proverb,  mam- 
ma,” asked  Alice,  ‘ Dodut}^,  and  leave 
consequences  with  God  ?’  ” 

“It  is  my  dear,  and  a very  good 
maxim  too,  lut  it  is  often  misused, 


202 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


like  almost  all  proverbs.  They  are 
applied  with  so  little  judgment  as  per- 
haps to  do  as  much  harm  as  good. 
You  must  consider  that  the  first  thing 
is  to  find  what  duty  is,  and  this  can  be 
ascertained  in  many  cases  only  by  the 
consequences  that  will  follow. 

“ It  was  near  noon  of  Monday  be- 
fore our  little  boat  was  well  under 
way.  A screen  of  cocoa-nut  leaves 
was  stretched  over  the  boat,  too  low 
to  allow  of  our  standing  up  under  it. 
There  was  room  to  stow  eleven  of  us 
on  the  seats  with  our  feet  resting  on 
our  trunks.  We  were  poled  along,  as 
the  channel  was  too  shallow  to  allow 
of  rowing. 

“We  had  gone  some  miles,  when  a 
little  boat  put  out  from  shore,  and  two 
of  the  missionaries  from  the  island 
soon  paddled  along  side.  They  were 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


203 


the  Rev.  Messrs.  Poor  and  Woodward, 
both  of  whom  have  long  since  gone  to 
their  blessed  home  above.  Immedi- 
ately after  the  first  welcome,  Mr.  Poor 
said,  ‘ I wish  to  give  you  your  first 
lesson  in  Tamil,  and  then  made  each  one 
of  us  pronounce  after  him  the  Tamil 
word  “chinakum”  which  means  ‘love.’ 
Mr.  M^oodward  then  said  he  wished 
to  prefix  a word  to  that,  and  gave  us 
‘ chakothara’  meaning  brotherly.  Thus 
we  were  taught  that  missionaries 
considered  Brotherly  Love  the  starting 
point  in  our  work  among  the  Tamil 
people. 

“We  landed  at  Jaffna,  the  seat  of 
the  English  Government  for  North 
Ceylon,  and  after  a most  cordial  wel- 
come from  the  English  missionaries, 
the  Rev'.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George,  and  a 
refreshing  cup  of  tea,  I was  taken  in 


204 


OUT  AT  SEA, 


a palankeen  to  Ooclooville.  JN’ever 
shall  I forget  the  first  twinkle  of  the 
lamp,  which  told  me  Oodooville  was 
near.  A few  of  the  school  girls  had 
been  sent  outside  the  gate  by  Mrs. 
Spaulding  to  meet  me.  Aor  shall  I 
ever  forget  the  tender  greeting  that 
dear  missionary  friend  gave.  It  was 
truly  a loving,  sympathizing  sister’s 
welcome. 

“ The  conversation  had  been  a long 
one.  Yet  as  they  rose  to  begin  their 
walk  homeward,  they  could  not  help 
lingering  to  admire  the  scene.  The 
ranges  of  hill,  which  rose,  one  beyond 
another,  between  them  and  the  briglit 
western  sky,  were  thrown  into  strong 
relief  by  the  side-long  rays,  Avhich 
glanced  athwart  them  from  the  declin- 
ing sun.  Every  rock  and  tree  and 
knoll  and  dwelling  of  the  low  land, 


MADRAS  TO  CEYLON. 


205 


even  every  twig  and  leaf  seemed  to 
stand  out  from  its  surroundings  as  the 
eye  turned  towards  it,  as  though  con- 
scious that  the  sun  was  shining  to  re- 
veal it  only.  The  homes  of  the  neigh- 
bors, with  each  its  little  lawn,  its  gar- 
den, its  piazza,  its  rustic  seats,  glow- 
ing in  sunlight,  or  half  hid  in  shade, 
gave  hints  of  rural  taste  and  industry 
and  thrift  and  social  enjoyment.” 
“Mother,”  said  Emma,  “is  there  so 
much  beauty  anywhere  else  as  here?” 
“Yes,  dear,  everywhere.  I mean 
in  all  parts  of  the  earth  ; where  there 
are  human  eyes  to  gaze  on,  and  ad- 
mire it,  where  there  are  multitudes  of 
human  eyes  that  never  notice  it,  and 
where  the  face  of  nature  turns  only  to 
its  Maker,  and  He  only  sees  that  it  is 
very  good.” 

“We  gaze  with  delight  on  our 
18 


206 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


lovely  hills  and  valleys  and  winding 
streams  and  falling  waters.  The 
quiet  lake  mirrors  the  moon-beam, 
and  the  river  bears  us  on  its  flowins: 
bosom.  The  wooded  hill-side  shows 
its  wealth  of  foliage,  and  the  towering 
mountain  leads  our  eyes  towards 
heaven.  The  sun  yields  us  warmth, 
and  reveals  to  us  all  beauty;  and  shady 
grove,  and  fanning  breeze  and  cooling 
showers  refresh  us.  Music  of  birds, 
and  hum  of  insects,  and  sounds  of 
winds  and  show’ers,  all  the  sweet  har- 
monies of  nature’s  mingling  orchestra, 
charm  our  ears. 

“ We  think  perhai')S,  ‘ This  is  a 
Christian  land,  this  the  beautiful  home, 
which  the  Maker  has  formed  for  us, 
his  living  children.’ 

“ But  did  not  the  same  forests  wave 
in  the  sunshine,  the  same  streamlets 


MADKAS  TO  CEYLON. 


207 


tumble  from  the  hills,  when  the  sav- 
age roamed  over  them  ? Did  not  the 
same  moon  beam  gently  on  him,  and 
the  same  waters  float  his  bark  ? Did 
not  the  same  birds  waken  sweet  music 
in  his  ear,  and  the  same  breeze  fan 
him  ? 

“ This  world  was  not  made  for  an- 
gels, but  for  sinful  man,  and  yet,  how 
full  of  charms ! Kindly  skies  bend 
over  heads  darkened  by  ignorance,  and 
maddened  by  vice,  and  fruitful  soils, 
and  rocks  full  of  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  gems  uphold  the  feet  that 
wander  from  their  Maker,  and  tram- 
ple alike  on  his  laws  and  his  love. 

“ If  this  beautiful  Avorld  is  the  home 
of  those  who  turn  their  back  upon  its 
Creator,  if  its  teeming  riches  are  for 
rebels,  what  must  be  the  delight  of 
that  reception,  which  awaits  those  who 


208 


OUT  AT  SEA. 


return  humble,  penitent,  submissive 
to  his  kind  embrace ! What  the  charms 
of  that  abode,  which  is  prepared  for 
those  that  love  Him.” 

The  little  party  had  reached  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  and  now  moved  quietly 
along  the  retired  road,  which  led  to 
their  home.  Their  residence  in  this 
pleasant  village  was  early  brought  to 
a close,  and  whether  in  their  new  home, 
the  conversations  were  resumed,  and 
carried  forward  the  account  of  the  life 
in  India  is  not  yet  ascertained. 


THE  END. 


i 


